


All I Want For Christmas (is You)

by Anonymous



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Innuendo, Love Bites, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Sex Toys, Tooth Rotting Fluff, product placement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-09-30 09:02:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10159508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Because they are spending Christmas Day with their families, Carver and Cullen have their own celebration a day earlier so it can be just the two of them. In addition to being more romantic that way, there are just some things a guy does not want to give his boyfriend in front of either of their mothers.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Carverly](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Carverly).



> So this was technically a part of the Carver-Defense-Squad Holiday Exchange on Tumblr that should have been posted during the actual Christmas season. My hope is that it is enjoyable despite it not necessarily being seasonally appropriate anymore.
> 
> Christmas as we know it doesn't exactly exist in Thedas, and since Christmas tropes were requested, I went with Modern AU set in a place where I tried to blend Thedas and our world when I could so I was able to fit as much Christmassy stuff in as possible. 
> 
> Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and product names appearing in this story are the intellectual property of their respected owners. I am just borrowing them for entertainment purposes and despite the tongue-in-cheek "product placement" tag, I am receiving no financial compensation for anything you see here. Any perceived or explicit endorsements are my own personal opinion or based on my interpretation of how the characters would feel and sometimes a mixture of the two.

Cullen choked on a breathy gasp and arched his back. His lover looked up from the nipple he was teasing with his tongue, dazzling dark blue eyes full of mischief and affection, and kissed a messy path up to Cullen’s neck.

“I love you,” Cullen panted desperately as he threw his head back to expose his neck for easier access. “Maker, _fuck_ , I love you.”

Carver hummed against Cullen’s neck and nipped his ear affectionately. “Good, makes it less awkward that I love you so much,” he caressed the side of Cullen’s face with his free hand before threading his fingers between Cullen’s.

His other hand continued its slow, torturous, and wonderful work pumping both of their cocks between their bodies. He nuzzled into Cullen’s neck, delighted by the small whimpers his ministrations were pulling from his lover’s throat. He lazily kissed the juncture where Cullen’s neck met his shoulder, and he smirked into the skin when Cullen shuddered.

He licked the spot he’d just kissed slowly and Cullen squirmed beneath him. “Want me to stop, Cull?”

“Don’t you dare,” Cullen groaned hoarsely. He shifted one of his legs to press Carver’s body closer.

“D’you mind if I leave a mark?” Carver knew Cullen seldom minded, and in fact often welcomed love bites. Carver was often very enthusiastic about them himself, but today wasn’t an ordinary day; they were picking up Cullen’s parents at the airport this afternoon so they could all spend Christmas together with both his and Cullen’s families tomorrow.

“Not too high,” Cullen panted. “Last time, Mia and your brothers were insufferable about it.”

“It’s unfortunately who Garrett is as a person, but unless they went and eloped since Thanksgiving, Anders and Marian aren’t married. So he’s _not_ my brother,” Carver grumbled between kisses peppered along Cullen’s jaw.

“I don’t care what you call him, Sweetheart, but you are talking entirely too much,” Cullen panted. “Just kiss me already!”

“Hm, bossy, bossy. But as it happens that's what I want to do anyway, so your wish is my command, Baby,” Carver grinned impishly and licked Cullen down the whole length of his neck and shoulder. Cullen hissed a moan through his teeth and clutched at the sheets beneath him as Carver nipped along his shoulder to find the most sensitive spot. When he found one he was pleased with, he kissed it gently before launching a full assault of sucking and biting and open mouthed kisses.

Cullen whined at the loss of contact when Carver pulled away proudly. He leaned in for one more gentle kiss on the angry red mark and pressed a trail of sloppy, open mouthed kisses up to Cullen’s mouth.

“Thanks, Babe,” Carver smiled against Cullen’s lips. “It’s a nice one. And as long as you wear a shirt to Christmas, it’s just between us.”

Cullen nodded and smiled, and he kissed Carver enthusiastically. He squeezed Carver’s hand affectionately and brushed his free hand through Carver’s short dark hair. They stayed like that for a wonderful stretch of time neither had an accurate measure of, just laying together and kissing as Carver continued working his hand up and down around both of their shafts.

Occasionally, they’d sigh or murmur the other’s name between lazy kisses and Carver would have happily stayed like that for the rest of the day, maybe even the rest of the year or their lives, but Cullen’s breathing started to get shallower and more frantic. His muscles tensed and he squirmed against Carver helplessly. He tossed his head slightly, whimpered, and clutched desperately at Carver’s scalp.

Carver pulled away for a moment to look down at his lover. Cullen’s eyes were blown wide and dark with lust and emotion. He was flushed and sweaty with exertion, but he’d set his jaw stubbornly and was chewing his bottom lip.

“I'm close, too, Cull,” Carver whispered and rolled his hips into Cullen’s. He pulled their intertwined fingers to his lips and kissed Cullen’s knuckles. “You can let go, I'll take care of you.”

Carver squeezed just a little tighter and as he pulled his thumb slowly over Cullen’s sensitive tip, a strangled noise somewhere between a yelp and a moan slipped through Cullen’s teeth. Cullen’s free hand slid from Carver’s hair to his cheek and then down his shoulder and came to rest right near the stylized Mabari tattooed on his shoulder blade.

“I’m not going to last too much longer, Sweetheart,“ Cullen chuckled weakly. “But I think, _hnng_ ,” he closed his eyes for a moment to try and gain some composure as his hips stuttered up against Carver’s. “I think I know you well enough to tell-- _Maker_ ! To tell when you're trying to prove something and you’re being too stubborn to ask for a _hand_ when you need it.”

Cullen smirked and batted half lidded eyes at Carver as he pulled his hand down Carver’s shoulder, arm, and torso, tickled it down Carver’s abdomen until it met Carver’s hand. He blew a kiss at Carver and then wrapped his hand snugly around their cocks, just below Carver’s own.

Carver hissed through his teeth and lurched forward as Cullen picked up the rhythm as immediately and easily as if he had initiated it in the first place. “ _Fuck,_ Cull,” He breathed raggedly. “That’s...that feels…”

Cullen smiled, warm and bright as a summer sun. “I know, trust me,” he leaned up to kiss the tip of Carver’s nose.

“Please don't stop,” Carver whimpered quietly. He blinked at Cullen and made a concentrated effort to keep up with the pace he’d set and Cullen was matching.

“Wouldn't dream of it, Sweetheart,” Cullen whispered breathily.

They both fell silent save for the occasional grunts and whimpers and gasps they managed to pull from each other’s throats.

Carver felt the familiar aching heat and tingly pressure starting to uncoil through his body, spreading outward from his belly to his limbs and his muscles twitched with the effort of maintaining his rhythm. He honestly had no idea how Cullen was able to keep up the pace with even motions and pressure without coming undone entirely.

As soon as that thought occurred to Carver, Cullen sucked in a sharp breath and cried out softly. His whole body tensed and his eyes went wide for a moment before they rolled back and he clenched them shut. He bucked up against Carver a couple times and then groaned softly as he shuddered through the release he’d been building all morning.

Watching Cullen tip over the edge was the end for Carver, too. His hands continued to squeeze and slide around both himself and Cullen, but the rhythm (and his breathing) quickly grew erratic and less careful. Cullen, now extra sensitive after his climax, made a set of needy mewling whimpers at the continued touching that went straight to Carver’s core as sure and powerful as if he’d been shot.

Every muscle in Carver’s body pulled tight for a moment and Cullen took it as an invitation to pump his hand harder.

“Fuck, _fuck_ , shit, Cull!” Carver whined desperately as the edges of his vision swam into a blurry white. He panted hard and groaned loudly when Cullen’s calloused thumb slid up and over his head. At some point he let Cullen take over the work entirely, and moved his hand to the side to help brace his weight.

“So close,” Carver whispered frantically. “Baby, I, I’m--” He shouted wordlessly and the entire world went white hot. One second he was rocketing through the entire universe, simultaneously understanding everything and having no thoughts at all, and the next he'd spent himself on Cullen’s belly and collapsed onto Cullen’s chest like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

He hummed and moved to catch Cullen’s mouth in a kiss. “I love you,” he whispered in a conspiratorial tone before bursting into a fit of giggles. He rolled bonelessly off his lover and curled into Cullen’s side.

Cullen smiled sleepily at him and turned his head enough to kiss Carver’s forehead. “I love you, too, Sweetheart.”

Carver laughed again and cuddled as close as he could to Cullen’s side, tucked neat into Cullen’s arm, and tangled their legs together. “How’re y’always so warm, Babe?” He murmured into Cullen’s ear.

“Dunno,” Cullen mumbled and carded his fingers through Carver’s hair. “ Glad you like it, at least.”

“Mmm, I like everything about you,” Carver confessed. He slid his hand over Cullen’s chest and smiled to himself at his lover’s heartbeat, steady and safe-feeling as everything else about the man.

“And I like everything about you, Carver,” Cullen sighed happily.  A few moments passed and Cullen’s breathing levelled out into gentle snores.

Carver stayed beside him drifting in a hazy place between fully awake and deeply asleep as his own breathing returned to normal. He would have loved very much to stay in bed and fall back asleep, curled around the man he loved, all day. Unfortunately it wasn't quite an option; they still had quite a while before they had to leave for the airport, but in that time they both needed to actually get up and showered and dressed and exchange presents while it was just the two of them--there are just some things you do not want to give your boyfriend in front of his mother, after all--and Carver had planned a special breakfast, too.

So he sat up and made to move. Cullen half woke up and frowned at the loss. Carver leaned down and kissed him gently. “I’m going to take a shower and get breakfast on, you rest a little longer, Baby.”

Cullen mumbled something incoherent, rolled onto his side, and fell quickly back asleep. Carver pulled a sheet up to cover him, kissed his forehead and left for the bathroom.

-

Around an hour later, when Carver was about ready to serve breakfast, Cullen came into the kitchen, all smiles and wet blond curls. His emotional support service dog, Holiday, barked and thumped her tail on the floor in greeting, and promptly returned her eyes to Carver and the food he was cooking.

“It smells incredible in here,” Cullen announced as he leaned over to kiss Carver on the cheek. “Need any help?”

“I've pretty much got it under control. The dog’s been out, table’s set, coffees ready, food’s nearly done. Maybe grab some juice if you want any?” Carver grinned. “Then go sit down and let me take care of everything.”

“Alright, alright,” Cullen laughed as he grabbed the juice from the fridge and two glasses from the cabinet. “I know; I am not welcome in the kitchen while you are cooking.”

“It’s better that way for everyone, Babe,” Carver reminded with a chuckle. “Or do I need to remind you about the spaghetti incident?” Carver raised an eyebrow. “Or the steak fiasco? Or maybe the time with the--”

Cullen laughed. “I know, Sweetie. My cooking is pretty much limited to cereal, sandwiches, and microwave meals. And I'm very lucky to have you.”

“Damn right,” Carver grinned at Cullen as he headed toward the table. Holiday gave the frying pan on the stove one last longing glance and trotted dutifully to Cullen’s side. “I’m a treasure,” he winked and blew a kiss Cullen caught in his hand and held to his cheek. “But that's not to downplay how lucky I am to have you either,” he said fondly. Cullen blushed a little and busied himself with the juice and ruffled Holidays ears. “Don’t forget your meds, I put them on the napkin near your plate.”

A few moments later, Carver pulled off his ridiculous “kiss the cook” apron with a strategically placed image of mistletoe at his navel and an arrow pointing helpfully downward toward his crotch, and brought a plate stacked with pancakes and the frying pan to the table. “Okay, breakfast is ready. Gingerbread pancakes and salmon omelettes with spinach, tomato, and cheddar,” he set the pancakes down and grabbed the spatula in the pan.

“You’ll put that apron away before we go get my parents right?” Cullen asked anxiously.

“Of course,” Carver scoffed. “I am not an idiot. It's going in the um, the box under the bed,” Carver’s cheeks and ears dusted pink and he smirked thinking of the box and it's contents. “Oh and uh, anything in the sparkling “joy” wrapping paper should probably go with it. And maybe the box should go into the closet, labeled tax stuff, just to be safe,” he gestured to the tree and the presents in question.

“I'm do like the idea of keeping everyone out of our sex life,” Cullen cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “Has Holiday had breakfast?”

Carver shook his head and went back to the stove where there was another, smaller pan waiting. He grabbed the spatula and slid another omelette into a purple dish on the counter. “I couldn't forget our best girl, now could I?” He grabbed a banana and added it to the bowl before setting it down on a placemat on the floor that had a place for food and a place for water a few inches apart and “Holiday Rutherford” in fancy script at the bottom.

Holiday glanced at Cullen, decided he didn't need her right now, gave him an affectionate lick on the hand, and bounded gleefully to the bowl. She sat in front of it and looked at Carver for permission. “Good girl. It’s a special Christmas Eve treat, just for you, Pup, you can go on and eat,” he stroked her head and grabbed two mugs off the counter and headed back to the table with them.

Cullen gratefully reached for a mug and Carver shooed his hand away. “Hold your horses, Babe!” Carver laughed. “I need to add a couple things.”

He set the mugs down and reached for the can of whipped cream by the pancakes. He applied a generous amount and took two candy canes he’d set aside and put one in each. With a smile, he nudged Cullen’s mug toward him. “Now it's ready.”

“This is incredible, Carver,”  Cullen beamed. “All of it.”

“Well, it's Christmas, and I love you, so...I wanted to make it special,” Carver shrugged and helped himself to a couple pancakes. He looked uncharacteristically shy for a moment before he ducked his head and busied himself with the whipped cream canister.

“Will there be any of that left for me?” Cullen chuckled.

“Maybe,” Carver drawled. “There may or may not be another two canisters in the fridge. And if there are, they may or may not be unsweetened and thus perfectly suited to late night treats,” he waggled an eyebrow in exaggerated suggestion. “And the best thing is if anyone asks, we can just say it's for pie or something!”

Cullen laughed again reached for the canister. “I'll look forward to that then, Sweetie Pie,” he smirked a little and started eating after adding quite a bit of cream to his own pancakes. “Maker, Carver, this must have taken you forever.”

“Nah, I did all the cutting and prep stuff last night when I was doing dinner,” Carver shook his head. “You like it?”

“Of course!” Cullen nodded. “I've never had Gingerbread pancakes before, but they’re good.”

“I thought they were nice and Christmasy. Like I said, I wanted it to be special,” Carver smiled fondly.

Cullen set his hand over Carver’s. “It is. It's been a great day so far, and there's more to come.”

Carver smiled wryly. “Don't get me wrong, I like that we get to see both your family and mine and all spend Christmas together, even if it does mean pretending Mother's fruitcake is actually edible and that I am actually interested in Garrett’s gardening tips or “exciting” floral arrangements or whatever. But at the same time, It’s nice to have our own Christmas celebration, with just me and you.”

Cullen leaned across the table and pulled Carver into a tender kiss. “I like us time, too, Carver. I cherish every moment I have with you from waking up next to you to falling asleep next to you and everything in between--even when you steal all the blankets,” he caressed Carver’s cheek. “I'm glad we're having our own Christmas things, but I can't deny I'll be happy to have the time with family, too. I'll tell you what, I'll talk to your brother about gardening if you talk with mine about football,” he sighed ruefully, “I am afraid I can't do anything at all about the fruitcake, so we shall just have to endure that together.”

“I love you so much,” Carver whispered, awestruck. He nuzzled into Cullen’s hand against his face. “And if we didn't have stuff to do today I’d probably drag you back to bed for the rest of the day.”

Cullen’s eyes widened and then narrowed shrewdly. Carver could almost see the calculations behind the lovely brown eyes as Cullen processed the comment and mentally weighed it against everything that still needed to be done. A few moments later he sighed and shook his head ruefully. “When my parents head home I am going to take you up on that offer.”

Carver grinned impishly. “And when will that be, again?”

“We have to have them at the airport by one on the 26th,” Cullen reminded him. “When we’re done with that, you and me have a date with that whipped cream that may or may not be in the fridge. I’m off work until the 2nd so, we’ll have plenty of time together,” he said huskily. “I promise. Now let's finish breakfast so we can do presents.”

Carver’s face lit up as he nodded. They finished eating in a comfortable relative silence. Holiday, who had finished her own omelette about four seconds after Carver had told her she could eat it, sat beneath the table sending mournful, jealous glances up at the both of them. When they were finished (and had not seen fit to share anything else with the dog) and Cullen gathered the dishes, she huffed resentfully and went to lay down in her bed by the Christmas tree.

“Babe, you don’t need to--” Carver started to reach for the dishes.

“Nope! You cooked; I will clean up,” Cullen said sternly. “I’ll do dishes and then it’s present time.”

Carver shrugged. He certainly wasn’t going to fight for dish duty. “I’ll go strip the sheets and make our bed and the guest room bed up then, I guess,” he leaned over to kiss Cullen on the cheek. “We decided on the candy cane stripes for your parents, blue with snowflakes for us, right?”

Cullen nodded and laughed. “Either’s fine really, but the blue matches your eyes. Both sets are tucked into their respective pillow cases on the top shelf of the linen closet,” he waved Carver off and started on the dishes.

-

A little over half an hour later Carver came back into the kitchen wearing a Santa hat. “All set. I ran the wash and put it in the dryer, too,” he grinned expectantly at Cullen, who was nearly done with the last dish. “Presents time?”

“Yeah, I will be right over. Grab some eggnog--the non-alcoholic, if you would. You are driving to the airport, and don’t need rum in your system, Sweetheart,” Cullen flashed a winning smile. “Oh and a bag for the wrapping paper, too.”

Carver grabbed the bag and the carton of eggnog and filled two nice wine glasses near to the brim. He added a shot of whipped cream and sprinkled both the nutmeg and cinnamon bottles from the spice rack over them. “Hurry up or I won’t use a coaster,” he teased as he headed over to the tree.

“I will literally be right there,” Cullen called nervously as he toweled off the last plate and set it in the drying rack. Holiday heard his tone and picked her head up to track his movements. He hesitated by her bed to set a hand on her head, letting her know he was fine and sat beside Carver on the couch.

Carver grinned smugly, kissed Cullen on the tip of his nose, and handed him the glass of eggnog. His own was, in fact, on a coaster. “Cards first?”

Cullen bit his lip slightly and nodded. “Yeah, that’s a good place to start.” He reached for a red envelope with Carver’s name on the front as Carver held out a green envelope with Cullen’s name. Cullen’s hands started to shake as they exchanged the envelopes.

Holiday cocked her head to the side, stretched, and trotted over to the couch. She hopped up beside Cullen and lay her big, square head on his knee with a soft snuffle. He started rubbing her velvety head and Carver recognized her “soothe” routine immediately.

“Cullen, are you alright?” Carver asked gently.

Cullen smiled shakily. “I'm just a little nervous whether you'll like what I got you or not, I’m fine.”

Carver nodded and set a hand on Cullen’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m sorry about the coaster comment. I didn’t mean to rile you up. Let me know if we need to take a break, okay? I understand completely.”

“I will,” Cullen promised. “I really am okay, but I appreciate that you care enough to check, Sweetheart.”

Carver smiled and shook his head slightly. He glanced down at the mabari. “Okay girl, I’m counting on you to let me know if our guy isn’t okay to keep going, alright?” Holiday thumped her tail a couple of times, and Carver decided that meant she was happy to help.

“Oh!” Carver said suddenly. He got off the couch and found a tiny box set on top of a few others. “This one goes with the card, you need to open it first for the setup to work,” he handed it to Cullen.

“Are we opening them at the same time?” Cullen chewed his lip.

“Nah, I want to see you react to it. Rock paper scissors?”

“How about you just go first,” Cullen laughed. “Your name is alphabetically first and you are the younger of us.”

“By like, seven months!” Carver said in mock defense. He grinned and opened the envelope. “Aww,” He cooed at the picture of two mabari pups wearing Santa hats. “Happy Howlidays…” He opened it and blinked a couple times. Almost every inch of the card’s insides and back were covered with tiny “I love you”s written in red ink in Cullen’s precise handwriting apart from the “I ruff you” printed on the card. “Cull…”

Cullen flushed and fidgeted with the box in his hands, eyes carefully averted. “I um, I couldn’t think of something to write that properly said what I was feeling, so I just...wrote an “I love you” for every day you’ve been in my life…from the day we met to today.”

“You fit _seven years_ worth of “I love you”s in this card?” Carver’s voice cracked. “That’s over...two and a half thousand “I love you”s!”

“I know, it’s silly, but it seemed romantic and sweet at the ti--” Cullen didn’t get to finish his statement because Carver had quickly launched himself at Cullen to catch his lips in a tender kiss. Holiday sat up and huffed indignantly as she was displaced.

“It’s not silly at all!” Carver breathed as he pulled away to catch his breath. His eyes were a little misty. “It’s really sweet. I love it. I’m gonna keep it forever. I love you so much. Oh _shit!”_ Blue eyes widened and he frowned. “Now my card is gonna seem so lame in comparison. I went for funny…”

Cullen shook his head slightly and chuckled. “That isn’t a bad thing, necessarily, Carver. I’m sure I’ll love it,” he gently pushed his boyfriend up and off him. Holiday immediately reclaimed Cullen’s knee as a headrest while he gently opened the paper on the box. When he had it opened, he raised an eyebrow; the box contained a tiny but healthy looking plant in a small rainbow ceramic pot.

“It’ll make sense in a minute,” Carver promised as Cullen set it on the coffee table in front of him skeptically. “Just open the card.”

Cullen opened the envelope just as carefully as he’d opened the package. The card had a larger version of the plant he’d just opened with Christmas lights on it. “Roses are red,” he read aloud and then raised an eyebrow. “And a cactus is thorny,” he opened the card hesitantly and continued reading. “When I think about you, I get very…Wait a minute! Shit!  That’s not a cactus! Aloe you Vera much!” Cullen laughed. “Oh! That’s clever!”

“You don’t think it’s stupid,” Carver asked anxiously.

“It’s definitely silly, but I like it. It’s very much your sense of humor,” Cullen smiled at the card and his new plant. “I’ll put this little guy on my desk at work,” he grabbed for Carver’s hand and squeezed it affectionately. “So are we switching back and forth; you open one, then I open one?”

“Probably a good idea,” Carver agreed. “We should save most of the dog’s presents for the rest of the family, though. But you’re not actually done with the card,” Carver said hesitantly. “You didn’t look at the back.”

“What, oh!” Cullen turned over the card. There were four plastic cards taped to it. “You renewed AAA, Costco, Barnes and Noble, _and_ our Y membership? That was so thoughtful!”

“I like getting things you actually use,” Carver said happily. “I know they’re household things we both use, so that’s why I put them in the card.”

“I still count these and the plant as the first present. Which means it is your turn, Sweetheart,” Cullen gently moved Holiday off him and went to pick up another envelope from the pile. This one had Carver’s name in the middle and the number “12” on the flap. “I went with a theme this year. So opening them in order is kind of crucial.”

“I like themes,” Carver said eagerly as he opened the envelope. “I didn’t really actually go with one, though.”

He whooped in surprise as he pulled out a stack of tickets. “Concert tickets?! Babe, this is so cool!”

“Twelve of them,” Cullen nodded. “Well, two sets of twelve at any rate, since concerts are no fun alone. It’s one a month, every month next year. Most of them are small, local bands, and I haven’t actually even heard of more than two of them...but I looked them all up online, and I’m pretty sure you will enjoy them. At any rate, they all have a drummer.”

“Drummer...oh! Twelve drummers drumming! Like 12 days of Christmas” Carver grinned. “This is going to be awesome! Thanks so much!” He flipped through the tickets, reading the bands and dates silently to himself. After a moment he set the tickets back in their envelope and on the coffee table. “Mine don’t have an order so just point at one you like and you can open that one.”

Cullen looked at the piles of presents around the tree. “How about that one, with the green bow?” Cullen pointed at a box.

“Good, nice first choice,” Carver nodded and retrieved the package. “You don’t need to be fussy about the wrapping paper, you know.”

Cullen gave him an exasperated look and pointedly opened the wrap neatly. He opened the box and pulled out a warm, thick hoodie and laughed. “Holly, it looks like you!” He held up the hooded sweatshirt and indeed it had a slightly cartoony happy grey mabari’s face over the chest. Holiday picked up her head and cocked it to the side. “It’s so soft; I love it, Carver,” he said happily and slipped it on over his shirt. “How do I look?”

“Perfect,” Carver answered quickly, with a wide smile.

Cullen beamed at him and picked up another wrapped box for Carver. This one had an “11” in the corner. “Now, for the pipers piping the song is referring to musicians, but I already got the concert tickets so I wanted to do something different and your little _sister_ recommended I get you a bong, or a set, and related paraphernalia,” he looked fretful. “Needless to say, I did _not._ . _”_

Carver bit on a smirk to hide a chuckle. Carver knew Bethany well enough to know that the suggestion was mostly a joke to get a probably hilarious flustered reaction from straight-laced Cullen, especially since Carver’s job had a very clear policy about any kind of smoking. “She meant well,” Carver shrugged. “Mostly. Probably. I think. Sisters, right?”

Cullen smiled. “Well, I got something I think you’ll like more,” he pressed the present into Carver’s hands. “And neither of us can get in trouble for in any way.”

Carver tore into the box enthusiastically and Cullen sipped his eggnog. With a look of wonder Carver pulled out a stack of video games. “ _Mario & Sonic at the Olympics_, _Paper Mario: Color Splash,_ _Super Mario Maker, Mario VS. Donkey Kong: Tipping Stars, Mario Party 10, Mario Kart 8, New Super Mario Bros. U., Super Mario 3D World, Mario Tennis: Ultra Smash, NES remix and NES remix 2,”_ he read the titles enthusiastically. Then he frowned slightly. “Mario games?”

Cullen rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “Ok, it might be a bit...cerebral? But Mario’s a plumber, see. And he spends a lot of time going down pipes…”

Carver laughed. “Oh my God, Babe, that’s actually a really neat idea!” He frowned again suddenly. “Except all of these are for the Wii U and I don’t have that system?” He glanced at the cabinet his playstation and xbox consoles were tucked in and then raised an eyebrow at the stack of presents Cullen had wrapped.

Cullen shook his head. “Actually you do, just not until tomorrow. My brother got you the console and a couple other games. I asked him to avoid any Mario titles so there aren’t repeats.”

“Look at you, mister thinks of everything!” Cullen grinned, visibly pleased. He set the games back in the their box and set the box on the floor by the coffee table. “Ok which one do you want next?”

Cullen looked thoughtfully at the presents and flushed slightly. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious about the ones wrapped in “joy” paper. How about that one?” He gestured to a box slightly bigger than a shoebox wrapped in the paper Carver had warned him about putting away before they had company.

Carver gave him a wicked grin. “Ooooh, this one?” He picked it up proudly and handed it over.

Cullen didn’t know what to expect and opened it gingerly. Once he was through the wrapping paper and the non-descript brown shipping box, he found himself staring at a white box labeled “nooky box” in a cheeky font. He raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend for an explanation.

“It’s a subscription box, like loot crate or whatever, only...y’know. For sex,” Carver said matter-of-factly. “Each one comes with a special Spotify playlist and a smutty story and toys and lube and stuff. It’s four a year, and each is supposed to have a different theme, but if you don’t like it, I’ll stop the subscription,” Carver managed to look sheepish and hopeful at the same time. “Open it if you want,” Cullen wordlessly opened the box and pulled out several intriguing items to show Carver, who started babbling nervously. “I know we’ve got stuff already but I thought it was a fun idea. And the things in it are supposed to be really good quality. And I know it's tacky to buy a present I’ll use, too, but, well, I just really liked the--”

“Sweetheart, stop,” Cullen laughed, full of mirth and heat in his cheeks. “I think, um _,_ really this is...it’s a great idea,” his eyes darkened a little. “It’s just, _Maker’s breath,_ it is _not_ fair to give me something like this when we don’t have time to test any of it out…”

Carver nodded sadly, but his eyes looked relieved. “Well the rest of them shouldn’t be arriving around any of the family holidays, at least,” he winked. “And the build up will probably be worth it.”

Cullen swallowed hard and nodded enthusiastically. “I can hardly wait,” he admitted. He carefully repackaged the box. Carver stared at him expectantly and he coughed. “Oh, right, yes. It’s my turn again,” he went to the tree and picked up a small shoebox sized gift, helpfully labeled with a “10”.

Carver took it eagerly and opened it. “This one’s ten lords a leaping, right? Ooooh, nice!” Carver set the lid to the side and held up six blu ray cases tied together. “The entire _Lord of The Rings_ series!”

“And _the Hobbit_ , which I know is cheating, a little bit since it didn’t have much to do with the theme, but I figured I may as well pick up all six and count them,” Cullen explained. “I know you have the _Lord of the Rings_ on DVD, but I figured you wouldn’t mind an upgrade and the _Hobbit_ trilogy.”

Carver set them down carefully and examined the rest of the box’s contents. “Of course I don’t mind; they’re great. And there’s also a _Lord of the Dance_ Blu ray, _Lord of the Flies_ Blu ray _,_ a bottle of Jumpin’ Johnny’s hot sauce--that looks pretty good, ... _Pure Heroine_ by Lorde?!”

Cullen laughed. “It’s a good album! And it is not actually that easy to come up with ten whole things about lords or leaping that you’d be interested in before we start getting repetitive,” he shrugged. “But there’s something else…”

“Holy _shit?!_ ” Carver exclaimed as he set the blu rays and cd aside. “Are you kidding me, Baby? Holy shit!” He held up the tickets from the bottom of the box, stunned and excited. “Globetrotter tickets?! Cull, Oh my _God!_ ” He crawled into Cullen’s lap and kissed him soundly. He pulled away, blue eyes still wide as saucers as he fell back onto the couch. He held the tickets in front of him as if they were made from glass. “I’ve always wanted to go see them…” Carver said in an awestruck voice. “How’d you know?”

Cullen gave him a soft smile. “You mentioned it once, before we were dating. We went to go pick up Rosalie from her basketball practice and you casually mentioned wanting to see the Globetrotters someday. While they aren’t lords, they do a lot of jumping, so it fits.”

“I am honestly the luckiest guy,” Carver groaned happily. “I could die happy right now.”

“Please don’t,” Cullen chuckled. “I’d miss you terribly and I don’t want to go to the game without you. I am glad you like it. They’re in the area around Valentine’s Day, so we’ll make a whole weekend of it.”

“Have I told you recently that I love you?” Carver smiled and leaned over for another kiss.

“Once, or twice, but by the Maker, it never gets old,” Cullen kissed him tenderly. “Why don’t you hand me that nice big one, right over there. The one with the candy canes taped into a heart?”

Carver nodded, kissed Cullen deeply and intensely once more, and grabbed the requested present. Cullen took it in his hands and once again carefully peeled the paper open. “Oh, Carver, Sweetheart…” he breathed once the box’s lid was off. “This is...wow. They’re gorgeous.”

“Six pairs, all in your size and favorite brands. Three pairs of jeans and three work pants,” Carver grinned as Cullen pulled the pants from the box and held them up, with a reverent look. “Very practical and well made, plus the work ones are supposed to repel stains,” Carver said happily. “Oh and one pair of super skinny jeans that I for one am looking _very_ forward to seeing you wear.”

Cullen, despite a smile he struggled to suppress, sighed heavily and held up the pants like they might bite him. “Carver, Sweetheart, where exactly am I supposed to wear these?”

Carver shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe to all these concerts and basketball games? Or just around the house or to the mall or something. Maybe date night?” Carver batted his eyes innocently. “Oh don’t make that face at me; so I like looking at your ass, is that a crime now? Well if it is, no judge or jury with eyes would blame me; it’s a very nice ass,” he reasoned with a wink.

Cullen lost the battle with his smile and snorted with laughter. “What am I going to do with you, Carver Hawke?”

“I have a few ideas,” Carver smirked coyly. “They start with those pants.”

“How about I just give you your next present instead?” Cullen shook his head, still chuckling. He picked up a brightly colored box with a “9” and handed it to Carver.

“I’ll take what I can get, Babe,” Carver winked again and hurried to open his present. He pulled out the first item and literally shrieked in delight. “It’s so cute! A dashboard Mabari!” He read off the box.

“It’s solar powered, you put it on the dash and the sun charges it and then she wags her tail,” Cullen explained. “Originally I was thinking one of those dancing hula girls but I don’t really like them...it seems demeaning to women and probably several cultures of people.”

“Sounds like you’ve been talking to Anders,” Carver said simply as he opened the little box to remove the mabari inside.

“Actually it’s more my boss and a couple coworkers. I believe you know Ms. Lavellan is Dalish? She has very strong opinions about people taking bits of people’s culture and not paying it due respect. Her husband even more so. I’ve had a lot of fascinating discussions with them and Dorian as well. Between them and Anders, your friend Merrill, and even Fenris, I’ve been thinking more about other people’s culture and lives and being sensitive about that kind of thing.”

“That’s probably good, then,” Carver said. “A happy mabari’s way better than something that might be racist anyway.”

“I agree. I went into the store hoping to find something else to replace it for the theme, and they had a whole bunch of other things that dance. They had flowers and Darth Vader and Santa Claus and several others. But I saw that mabari and I knew you needed that even if it wasn’t perfect for the theme.”

“Her whole butt wiggles, this is the absolute cutest thing I have ever seen, Babe, look at it!” Carver manually moved the little dog. Holiday looked up at him and huffed indignantly.

“Oh hush, Girl,” Carver laughed. “You know I love your wiggles more than anything else. A plastic mabari can’t compare to the real thing. No need to be jealous, Pup.”

Holiday snuffled and gave a satisfied “boof” before laying her head back on her paws. Cullen smiled at her fondly and ruffled her ears. “Such a good girl, would you like one of your presents?” Her ears twitched in interest as Cullen stood up and pulled a package from under the tree. “Would you like a squeaker, Girl?”

She “boofed” again in approval when Cullen squeezed the package and it squeaked. He did it again, and she wriggled with anticipation. Her tail was wagging ridiculously fast. Carver laughed. “Babe, if you don’t actually give it to her, her tail is gonna make her fly off pretty soon.”

Cullen chuckled and Holiday barked excitedly. He pulled the paper off and tossed a lion shaped toy into her bed. She bounded over to it and aggressively chewed on it. “The company says that lion is unbreakable, but I say she’ll have chewed through it and broken every squeaking bulb in it before my parents get here.”

“Have more faith in our girl than that,” Carver laughed. “I give her an hour tops.”

“That’s why I bought the warrantee. And several others,” Cullen said fondly. “Anyway, if you’re done making Holly jealous with the solar mabari, there is more in that box.”

“Oh, yeah, right,” Carver nodded as he set the little dog down on the coffee table. “ _Nine_ dancing ladies after all,” he reached into the box and pulled out yet another a stack of Blu-ray boxes. “ _Chicago_ , _Moulin Rouge_ , _Singing in the Rain_ , _Dirty Dancing, Hairspray_ ,” he read. “Huh, I don’t think I’ve actually seen any of these before. They any good?”

“They’re all musicals where ladies dance?” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t honestly know any of them very well. Well, I know the last one. My brother was the main guy in a school production of it a few years back. So I’ve seen that story, just not this version?”

“Alright, we’ll have to watch them sometime,” Carver said simply as he picked up another video game from the box. “ _Just Dance 2017_ ,” he read with a smile. “They used to have something similar at the arcade near my house as a kid, I think. I used to be the best at it...Beth and I had the high doubles score for like eleven months one time.”

“This one needed a special controller, so I got that, too, but it didn’t fit in the box and it didn’t make sense to use a bigger box when everything else was so small. I put it in the guest room closet. Maybe we can play together when the console’s here? I think my sister has a couple other ones in the series. They might bring them.”

“I’d like that,” Carver grinned affectionately at Cullen who smiled softly back. He looked back into the box and there were two envelopes at the bottom. He opened the first and looked back up at Cullen. “Couples Dance Lessons?”

“I...oh, I thought that it would be a fun thing to do together,” Cullen cleared his throat. “The class covers ballroom, salsa, and, um, even square dancing. But if you don’t want to…”

“Oh no, I’d like it. We’ve never done anything like that, though. Is there a special occasion I don’t know about?” Carver raised an eyebrow. Cullen shrugged and gestured for him to pick up the final envelope. Carver tipped an invitation out of it and his other eyebrow jumped to catch the first as he read it aloud. “Dear Messrs Hawke and Rutherford...We appreciate your interest and do cordially extend this invitation to attend the 139th annual Honnleath Harvest Hoedown...Yours graciously, the Honnleath Historical Society,” he squinted at the invitation, and then Cullen for a few long moments. “That’s...an occasion, all right.”

Cullen went pink all over. He chewed his lip and fidgeted with his shirtsleeve enough that Holiday looked up from her squeaky lion in concern. “It...I...er...Well, I know it’s probably a little...silly...to you. But it’s a great party every year. And I’ve been every year since I was born; my parents met at the one just after they finished highschool and then Mia was born right in the middle of the one right after that. I kind of just...I really I would like to share it...with you,” Cullen smiled fretfully and looked suddenly shy and nervous. He fidgeted and swallowed hard as he watched for Carver’s reaction.

“You’ve gone every year?” Cullen nodded once and Carver gave him a tender smile. “Well then you won’t miss this one,” He held up the invitation. “I’ll be the first to admit that I have never even thought about going to a hoedown. I think my mother would have had a stroke if one of us asked as kids. But I can tell this is important to you, and we have these dance lessons so, we might as well. But I will warn you, Baby, when I look like a complete and total fool, and I assure you that if I am do-si-doing or whatever I will, you cannot pretend you don’t know me.”

“I would never, Sweetheart,” Cullen promised earnestly. “Never ever.”

“Good,” Carver nodded happily. “That means you’re up. Which d’you want next?” He gestured to the present pile.

“The one closest to you, with the Hershey kisses taped to the top?” Cullen suggested and a moment later it was in his hands.

“This one, I think it’s really cool. I'm sure you'll like it,” Carver watched eagerly as Cullen opened the wrap and the lid of the box. “Its shampoo and conditioner special made for your exact hair type.”

“No kidding?” Cullen picked up the light blue shampoo bottle, smiled fondly at his name on the bottle, opened the top, and sniffed it.

“Yeah, it’s custom formulated by this company called “function of beauty”,” Carver explained. “They asked me all kinds of questions about your hair and made it special. It’s supposed to help relax and straighten your curls a little, because I know you prefer that. And it’ll help keep it strong and healthy and stuff like that, but it’s also supposed to be really good for your oily scalp and dandruff.”

“Wow,” Cullen breathed. “I’ve never heard of such an individualized shampoo.”

Carver nodded. “Honestly, I hadn't either, until my cousin Charade shared an article about it on Marian’s Facebook. I checked it out and asked around. Isabela’s been using it for a while at the recommendation of both her friend, Zevran, and that guy you used to work with, Alistair, and his wife. Also...I learned way too much about those three relative strangers’ sex lives,” Carver grimaced and wrinkled his nose. He shook his head to clear it. “Anyway, I thought it might be a nice thing for you to have one shampoo that does everything you specifically want from it,” Carver shrugged like it was no big deal.

“Carver, this is incredible,” Cullen smiled as he tucked the bottle back into it’s box and Carver absolutely beamed in response. “I can’t wait to try it out tomorrow morning before we head to your family’s house. I’d go try it right now if I hadn’t just showered.”

“I hope you like how it smells,” Carver cocked his head to the side. “It’s sandalwood and violet; the other smells seemed a little, I dunno, girly?”

“Carver, Sweetheart, smells don't really have genders…”

“Oh I know!” Carver agreed quickly. “But at the same time, Bethany’s been using cucumber soaps and things her whole life so that’s a fairly strong association for me and if you smelled like that, too, especially when you're all wet and naked, it would probably be confusing,” Carver fidgeted nervously. “And Marian’s always used things that smell like pie or cupcakes or assorted other desserts. I guess it isn't girly in general, but they remind me of those girls?”

“I think I understand,” Cullen nodded. “It would be strange if you smelled like my sisters. And this one smells very nice anyway. I love it,” he smiled reassuringly.

“I'm glad,” Carver smiled back. He leaned over to steal a quick kiss. “I hope it works well for you.”

Cullen tucked his fingers into Carver’s short hair and chuckled against his lips. “You’re cute. And sweet. I love you.”

“I love you more,” Carver nipped at Cullen’s bottom lip.

“That...is not even remotely possible, Carver,” Cullen growled low in his throat. He pulled Carver more fully into his lap and kissed him hard.

Carver made a low noise of approval and shifted so he was straddling Cullen’s hips more comfortably. “Is, too,” Carver grumbled and kissed Cullen for all he was worth. “Lemme prove it.”

Cullen smirked against Carver’s lips and slid his hands under Carver’s shirt. He traced Carver’s muscles and looked up through half lidded eyes. “You think you can? Go for it,” he challenged.

Carver raised a playful eyebrow and hooked his thumbs in the waistband of Cullen’s pants. “Pretty sure I can and will, Baby,” he kissed Cullen on the cheek and nose and neck and slowly, deliberately rolled his hips to grind against Cullen’s. From her bed across the room, Holiday huffed and sighed in a way that was clearly disapproving and Carver pulled away suddenly. He sighed and pressed a gentle kiss to Cullen’s temple. “...And I’ll have to do it later. We still have presents; some of those are really not for your parents’ eyes, let alone your fourteen year old sister.”

Cullen pouted as Carver rolled off him and moved back to his place on the other side of the couch, but nodded his agreement. “Right, yeah. We...need to focus on that,” he blinked a couple times. “Whose turn is it?”

“My true love was just about to give me the present for “eight maids a milking”,” Carver reminded with a slight smile.

Cullen smiled sheepishly and picked up a box marked with an “8” that was considerably bigger and heavier than the ones Carver had already opened.

Carver quickly opened it and his face immediately split in a grin. “Candy!” He lifted out a five pound bag of Milk Maid caramels, a five pound bag of Cowtails candy, a five pound bag of fun sized Milky Way candy bars, and a five pound bag of Hershey Kisses and set them on the table. “That's twenty pounds of candy, you know.”

“I do know,” Cullen smiled warmly as the first caramel disappeared into Carver’s mouth. “Should last a while.”

“I get the hint,” Carver said sheepishly as he popped another caramel in his mouth. “I'll put them in the freezer so they do, I promise,” he reached back into the box and pulled out two black and white spotted envelopes. “8 weeks of maid service,” he read from the first with a smile. “That's almost two months where I don't need to vacuum or dust? Babe, I could kiss you,” he smirked. “I won't, because time and presents and parents and apparently we have the self control of sixteen year olds and all, but I _could_.”

“I'll hold you to that, later tonight, Sweetheart,” Cullen winked mischievously.

Carver grinned and waggled his eyebrows. “Oh I won't forget,” he carefully opened the second envelope. “Wow,” he blinked. “A whole couples day at the Milk and Honey Spa for the first,” he silently read the list of included and planned activities.

“I thought it would be a fun way to start off the year,” Cullen said mildly. “It's been awhile since either of us had any kind of spa day.”

“Yeah,” Carver agreed. “I think the last time was the first Valentine’s Day after we moved in together.”

“Then we're overdue,” Cullen remarked with a smile. “It should be a nice day,” Carver reached back into the box and pulled out a small wrapped box. “Ok now, that one might need a little explanation,” Carver raised an eyebrow as he held up eight bars of homemade soap. “They’re Dalish halla milk soaps. Ms. Lavellan’s family keeps halla as a major part of their culture and as it happens her two year old daughter is sensitive to a lot of modern commercial chemicals and things anyway so she makes the soaps in the traditional way of her people. They’re all natural and gentle and they smell nice, and she sells them to coworkers who want them so I bought some of the ones I thought you’d like best.”

Carver looked at the little bars again. Each was wrapped neatly in wax paper and tied with a ribbon and card to identify the scent. Cullen had chosen nicely, Carver thought as he read the labels: pine, almond, peppermint, orange, honeysuckle, lemongrass, eucalyptus, and anise. “I’ve never even heard of halla milk being used for soaps,” he commented idly. “These look great, Cull. Tell your boss thanks from me.”

“I'll let her know you like them after you've used them,” Cullen smiled. “But, if I'm not mistaken, the last box in there is something you'll be a bit more excited about, Sweetheart”

Carver nodded and pulled out a rather large box. It was wrapped separately and so he had saved it for last, presuming correctly that it might be special. He tore into the wrapping and his eyes went big as saucers. “Cull, oh my God, Cull, seriously?!” He clutched it in his arms like the finest treasure. “How did you know I've always wanted a milkshake machine?”

Cullen’s eyes were soft and warm. “I like to think I know you pretty well after having been in love with you for most of our adult lives, Carver. I know I'm not the most observant guy on the planet sometimes, but do give me _some_ credit for paying attention to things you like.”

“Cullen, you probably _are_ the most observant guy I know,” Carver snorted with mirth. “I'm going to have to kiss you all night for this, you know. We're going to show up for Christmas exhausted and it's going to be entirely on you for being so sweet and thoughtful and giving me such nice presents. And then Mother's going to ask me what I got for Christmas and I’m either going to start giggling or crying so you'll need to explain that.”

“Yes ‘Mrs. Hawke, I gave your son a milkshake machine, which is not a euphemism, and he spent the whole night thanking me with his mouth, which actually is a euphemism, and now he's tired and an emotional mess’,” Cullen smirked. “I’m sure that’s exactly what your mother--and mine for that matter--wants to hear.”

“It probably wouldn't be as bad as the time Isabela casually mentioned having slept with everyone at the dinner table at one point or another except you, Garrett, and Mother,” Carver mused wryly.

“That is a little hard to beat,” Cullen’s lip quirked in a smile. “But all the same, your mother seems to like me, or at least she doesn't hate me. And I would like to keep it that way.

“She could never hate you,” Carver laughed. “I'm pretty sure she thinks you are perfect. You're definitely her favorite of the people I've ever dated.”

“That's sweet of you to say,” Cullen rolled his eyes affectionately.

“I'm serious,” Carver winked. “I'd say you were her favorite of anyone any of her kids have dated, but Sebastian’s literally an actual prince and has that accent and sings in the choir at Mother’s church and he won a gold medal for archery and if he wasn't “chastely courting” Bethany or whatever he calls it, I'm not convinced Mother wouldn't be interested in him for herself,” Carver wrinkled his nose.

“As long as I'm _your_ favorite,” Cullen batted his eyes. Carver made a show of pretending to think about it and Cullen lobbed a throw pillow at him. “Haha. Hand me that big box, it's my turn,” he pointed at another of the packages in the sparkling joy paper.

Carver gave a grin that was all at once too innocent and unnervingly wicked as he handed Cullen the box. “This one I’m fairly confident you’ll like.”

Cullen winked playfully as he opened it in an exaggerated slowness. Once the paper was off he opened the box and blinked several times. “Oh my…” He looked up at Carver, his eyebrows shooting into his hairline. “B-bad Dragon?”

Carver’s grin was all teeth now. “You aren’t the only one who pays attention, Babe. I think you’re gonna like this toy,” he gestured for Cullen to pick it up. “It’s a toy _and_ a naughty historical reference all in one. It’s called _Dane the werewolf!_ ”

Cullen curiously picked up the plastic bag the toy was wrapped in and turned it over to the see-through side to examine it.

“I got a medium size based off what we’ve already been using,” Carver explained with a smile. “And it’s supposed to glow blue in the dark, which I thought might be neat. A lot of reviews say it’s a good beginner toy for people who haven’t used ones with knots before.”

“You know getting a toy with a knot like a dog falls right into some of the worst Ferelden stereotypes that exist,” Cullen said conversationally.

“Probably,” Carver agreed, still grinning easily. “If you don’t want it, just don’t open the plastic bag. I can return it.”

“I didn’t say that I didn’t want it, Carver,” Cullen said defensively, hugging the package to his chest.

“Good,” Carver laughed. “I kinda had the impression you were curious about trying it, going off some role play we’ve done and a couple of the romance novels you have in your nightstand.”

“You’re not wrong. Unfortunately, that makes another thing to look forward to for once my parents leave,” Cullen sighed wistfully.

“True,” Carver sighed and then brightened. “Oh there’s a second part, hold on!” He reached behind the tree and handed Cullen a box wrapped in the same vibrant “joy” paper. “I didn’t wrap them together because they arrived separately. I didn’t buy these from the same company, but they are somewhat necessary.”

Cullen took the box with a knowing smile and was not at all surprised by the contents of several bottles of toy-safe, water based lubricants. “Oh, you got the good stuff,” he remarked with an impressed look.

Carver grinned. “I tried a few new brands like Gun Oil H20 and Astroglide gel, but mostly stuck with Good Clean Fun because it’s what we normally have. I stayed with thicker gels to be safe since the werewolf toy is a little bigger than some of what we have especially around the knot. And as much as I wanted festive flavors and smells I figured it was best not to go too far out of the ordinary at first.

“Probably a safe way to play it,” Cullen agreed. “We can always change it up if we need to. I’m glad you thought of it,” he shook his head with a smile and reached for the box labeled with a neat “7”.

“Swan time, right?” Carver thought for a moment on the lyrics of the song as he unwrapped the present.

“Seven swans a swimming,” Cullen confirmed with a nod.

Carver opened the wrap excitedly. At the top of the box there were three envelopes. The first was cow spotted and contained only a receipt. “What’s Schwan’s?” He cocked his head to the side. “And what are they delivering at 7 AM on the 26th?”

“It’s a food delivery company. My Mom used to get things from them as a treat sometimes when I was younger,” Cullen explained happily. “And they are bringing you five kinds of ice cream and two kinds of gelato.”

“Oh, I can use the milkshake machine!” Carver looked enthusiastic. “What kinds?”

“I don’t actually remember off hand; I placed the order a while ago,” Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. “But they definitely sounded good and would be good in milkshakes.”

Carver nodded and set the envelope aside to start on the next. “Swan Lake. Probably should have seen that coming,” Carver chuckled.

“Yeah, it was an easy one,” Cullen smiled indulgently. “But it's on ice, and it should be pretty worth seeing.”

“Garrett and Marian were in a production of Swan Lake once when they were about 12,” Carver said thoughtfully. “He was the prince and she was the evil sorcerer.”

“Well then you'll have to tell me if they do it justice,” Cullen said mildly. “I've never actually seen any of the ballet.”

“I think you'll probably like it,” Carver set the envelope down and reached into the box again and pulled out a large jar of Swanson daily vitamins. “Practical,” he noted.

“Swan Lake aside, it’s harder to be creative with swans than you’d think,” Cullen said sheepishly. “But it’s not like you won’t use them.”

“That’s true. And this is an awful big jar. It’ll last a while at any rate,” Carver set it down. “I really do appreciate it, Cull,” he pulled out a cd next and looked quizzically between it and Cullen.

“I’ve never heard of the band Swans either,” Cullen shrugged. “This is their newest album and a coworker saw me googling swans and thought I was a fan so she told me about this cd and honestly it fit the theme.”

“We can pop it in on the way to get your parents,” Carver decided.

“And if you don’t like it, feel free to give it to someone else tomorrow,” Cullen smiled. "I won't mind."

“Deal. Garrett’s like a musical garbage disposal. I’m sure I’ll like it, but if not he’ll love it,” Carver grinned and reached back into the box and pulled out a package that contained a fancy looking pair of green swim trunks. He stared at them, visibly impressed and mildly confused for a long moment.

“They’re MarMar Copenhagen Swan trunks,” Cullen explained. “The brand means literally nothing to me; honestly, I found them completely by random chance but the color was nice and they fit the theme for both swimming _and_ swans, so I thought they were perfect.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had such fancy shorts, Babe,” Carver laughed. “You got my size right and everything! I can’t wait to take them to the pool and try them out.”

“Then you’ll need another something from in there,” Cullen said encouragingly. “The little box.”

Carver blinked and retrieved the container Cullen must have meant. He opened it and nodded approvingly. “Ohh, Swan Goggles. These are really nice!” Carver turned them over in his hands.

“I’m glad,” Cullen ran a hand through his hair. “They should last quite a while, too. I really don’t know much about goggles but--”

“I got every pair I’ve ever had since I was fifteen at Walmart, Cullen,” Carver said wryly. “They’re amazing. Thank you,” he set them carefully on top of the trunks and pulled the last box from the package. “Oof, this one’s heavy!”

“And fragile, careful,” Cullen warned.

Carver rolled his eyes a little and made of show of handling and opening the box very gently. As soon as the lid came off a rush of smells flooded the room. Carver blinked a moment and smiled fondly. “Candles?”

“Swan Creek Candles,” Cullen agreed. “They’re supposed to burn clean and have nothing bad in them. Your sister and Anders recommended the company, and I picked seven nice ones out for you.”

Carver picked each of the seven candles up in turn and read their labels. “Black Plum and Prosecco, Bourbon Maple Sugar, Cinnamon Hazelnut Latte, Forest’s Edge, Leather, Salted Caramel Popcorn, and Sparkling Apple Cider. Wow, that’s quite an assortment,” he sniffed each one delicately. “These smell exactly like they say they should. Oh, God, this popcorn one! Cull, smell it!”

He held it out and Cullen took a deep sniff. “Wow, it does smell just like popcorn! So...you like them?”

“They’re great, Baby. We can light one tonight,” Carver promised. He carefully packed them back into their box and set the rest of the items in the bigger box with them. “Which of yours would you like next?””

“How about that nice one in the snowflake paper?” Cullen pointed to a package Carver could reach without even getting up.

Carver nudged it close with a foot and picked it up. “An excellent choice, if I do say so myself,” he grinned and passed it to Cullen.

Cullen opened the shoebox sized present and hummed thoughtfully as he held up a small assortment of snacks. “Graze. I’ve heard of these. I think Josephine at work has them sometimes.”

“It’s a subscription snack company. Every week they’ll send you a box with eight snack packs and you can go online to customize it with what you’d like to try or never want again or really like,” Carver explained. “I don’t actually know what is in the first box, but I looked at the choices available and they all looked pretty nice.”

“Let’s find out what they’ve sent then,” Cullen smiled and popped the box open. “The first four are called...Cinnamon Pretzel, Banana Caramel Dippers, The Cheese Board, and Any Time Energizer,” he read the ingredients in each and nodded in approval. “And the second layer has...Zesty Chili Lime Cashews, Creamy Ranch Kern Pops, Tangy Tomato Tapenade with Aged Cheddar Bruschetta, and Chocolate Cherry Protein Granola.”

“That seems like a nice selection,” Carver looked impressed. “They have more than a hundred things to pick from and I think we can buy more of the ones you like most if you want.”

“I almost regret finishing all my breakfast,” Cullen teased. “I can already tell I'm going to love these.”

“But wait, there's more!” Carver said in his best infomercial voice and gestured for Cullen to keep going through the box. Underneath the cardboard Graze box, was a similarly sized box labeled Dollar Shave Club.

“That’s right! You are also the proud owner of a subscription for shaving razors,” he winked.

“How’s this one work?” Cullen picked up a sleek razor handle curiously and peered at three bottles of pre-shave oil, shave butter, and post shave cream.

“Well, every month they send you a set of four razor cartridges. I picked the four blades for you but they also have two and six. First month they send you a nice sturdy handle. The lotions and things aren’t part of the recurring package, but obviously I can pick up more if you like them and when you run out. I got a kick out of the brand name to be honest,” he admitted playfully. “So if you don’t like it that’s totally fine, but…”

“I’ll give a fair try, but with a name like “Dr. Carver’s” it’s bound to be exactly perfect,” Cullen laughed and put the razor back into the box.”

“That’s not all,” Carver said with a grin as Cullen went to set the present down. “There’s something else in there.”

“You’re spoiling me rotten, Sweetheart,” Cullen chuckled and set the snack and razor boxes down. He picked up two activity booklets and smiled warmly.

“No more than you deserve, I assure you. I also did a subscription for you to get Sudoku and Crosswords books once a week on alternating weeks,” Carver explained. “I know you like them for lunch time at work and when you get stressed and this way you’ll always have fresh ones.”

“Sweetheart, these are actually really, incredibly, adorably sweet and thoughtful,” tears prickled at the corners of Cullen’s eyes and he leaned over toward Carver to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Thank you,” he breathed.

Carver made a pleased sound and smiled happily. “I’m glad you like them, Baby.”

“I love them,” Cullen corrected. “You know how I love practical and useful things.”

“That is pretty much the only actual theme I went with for the most part,” Carver quirked his lips into a lazy, affectionate smile. “For most of it anyway.”

“I always end up surprised by how thoughtful you are, Carver,” Cullen mused. “I shouldn't be, obviously. But you are so sweet.”

Carver’s ears went pink at the compliment. “Yeah, well, that's between us. I've got a reputation I gotta look out for and all,” he grumped.

“Your secret is safe with me, Sweetheart,” Cullen shook his head softly. “I don't know why you hide that big heart of yours, and honestly I expect everyone already knows about it, but I'll not run shouting through the streets about it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Carver huffed. “Don't you have some calling birds to give me?”

“Actually it's geese next,” Cullen said gently. “Six geese a laying. Calling birds are fourth.”

“Really?” Carver looked surprised. “I think I've probably been singing that wrong my whole life then.”

“Well you at least had a bird,” Cullen chuckled and retrieved a large box labeled with a six. “This one is mostly fragile so you'll want to be careful.”

Carver nodded and set the box on the coffee table gently. He gingerly unwrapped it and removed the lid. “It’s...a blanket?” Carver asked with knitted eyebrows.”

“It's actually a goose down comforter,” Cullen said, pleased. “Its super warm and the color matches your eyes exactly, but I used it to cushion the more delicate components. So don't just yank it out.”

“Thanks for the warning,” Carver nodded seriously. He peeled back the first layer and blinked curiously at a familiar looking jersey. “Isn’t this...Marian’s” He raised an eyebrow and picked it up. Two lanyards with shiny passes fell out.

“It is, actually, yeah,” Cullen chuckled. “Well, a replica of her jersey in your size.”

“I...think I’m missing the connection to geese,” Carver said carefully.

“Look at the tickets, Sweetheart,” Cullen encouraged.

“Hightown Hivernals -vs- Gwaren Geese...oh! Marian’s team is playing the Geese. That’s where it ties in.”

“It’s the last match before the playoffs and your sister assured me these are the best seats in the house,” Cullen said hesitantly. “I thought it might be nice to show up wearing her colors rather than her opponents’ though, so slight bend of theme. I know the jersey has her number, but...well Hawke is your name, too, Sweetheart.”

“Are you wearing a jersey, too?”

Cullen blushed and rubbed at the back of his neck nervously. “Well, I did get one for me, but I-I thought I’d see how you felt about it, actually.”

Carver cocked his head to the side. “Oh...y’know...I kinda really like that idea,” his ears went bright red and he chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “You wearing my last name...it’s, well, it’s kinda...hot?” He dropped his eyes to his lap.

Cullen blinked rapidly and gave a somewhat goofy grin. “I find I’m rather fond of the idea myself.”

“Oh...that’s...good. I think. Yes, good,” Carver coughed and hid a small smile behind his fist. “Right, back to presents then…” He cleared his throat, shook his head, and unfolded the next layer of the blanket. “Ooh, God Babe, you know what a guy wants,” Carver groaned happily. He scooped up six large Ferrero Rocher chocolate eggs in shiny gold foil out of the blanket. “This is perfect, you’re perfect, _fuck_ I love these so much, you have no idea…”

“Oh, I actually think I do have a pretty good idea,” Cullen smiled fondly as Carver stared at him with wide-eyed joy. “But, I dare say there’s more in that box to get excited about.”

Carver reluctantly set down the chocolates and unfolded the next layer of the blanket. “I never thought I’d be able to say “my true love gave to me six bottles of sriracha”,” he mused. “Flying Goose...I’ve never even heard of that brand before.”

“It’s not common here,” Cullen agreed. “We both know I’m hardly the person to ask about brand names and spicy things in general, but my friend Dorian considers himself something of a connoisseur of flavorful things, particularly condiments and spices well outside traditional Ferelden flavors, and he recommended it pretty highly. According to him Flying Goose is a little thicker and has more depth of flavor than Huy Fong--the one with the rooster on it that we’re more familiar with--even though it isn’t as hot,” Cullen frowned slightly. “I will be the first to admit that I would honestly not know if he was lying to mess with me, but I don’t _think_ he’d do it when I was asking for advice about a present for you.”

“I’ll crack open the first bottle to use in tomorrow’s breakfast. If it was a joke, tell him he ruined Christmas for your family,” Carver said simply. “And if not, well I’ve got recipes for sriracha chicken and sriracha home fries that’ll do it justice.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Cullen nodded. “A delicious plan. I can hardly wait.”

“Any other requests for Christmas breakfast?”

“Carver, I’m certain whatever you do will be more than perfect,” Cullen assured him.

Carver made a pleased sound and unwrapped the next section of blanket and raised an appreciative eyebrow. “Nice, Cull!” He gently lifted up a six pack of Goose Island Beer. “Never let it be said that you don’t have excellent taste.”

“And who would be saying that?” Cullen teased.

“Garrett says the fact that you want to kiss me tends to speak for itself,” Carver shrugged. “But he’s just being an older brother about it. Mostly. I think. He’s the same about Anders and Sebastian, don’t worry.”

“I see. Well, I happen to think wanting to kiss you means I have excellent taste,” he batted his eyes at Carver. “But I have siblings, too, and I definitely understand. I would probably be more concerned if there was no teasing.”

“For what it's worth, Bethany thinks you put the moon in the sky and must have had a head injury to put up with me for so long,” Carver snorted.

“Here’s to settling then, I guess,” Cullen laughed heartily and lifted his eggnog in a mock toast. “Although, I certainly would never classify it that way, and I can hardly imagine being happier with anyone else.”

“Me either,” Carver admitted quietly. “I can't imagine being with anyone else period. I love you, Cull,” He gave a soft, vulnerable smile. “I'm certainly not settling.”

“Then how about a toast to brothers and sisters who do not know what they are talking about and should not comment on our relationship.”

“Heh, I will drink to that,” Carver grabbed his glass and sipped his eggnog. “And also to not settling.”

“Well, speaking of drinking, Sweetheart, by my count you're not done with that box quite yet.”

Carver raised an eyebrow and unfolded the last layer of the blanket. “Holy _shit_ , Cull,” He breathed. “You were not kidding.”

“Figured I might as well go big or go home, Sweetheart.”

Carver reverently picked up each of the six bottles of Grey Goose Vodka and set them on the table. “That's a lotta vodka,” Carver gaped.

“It is,” Cullen agreed. “It was the first thing I actually thought of for the theme,” he smiled indulgently. “You had a Grey Goose martini for your first legal drink, remember.”

“How could I forget?” Carver asked fondly. “You had rum and coke. I remember because it was on your breath when we were making out in the bathroom a few drinks in.”

Cullen coughed and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Yea. To my credit that was my first time drinking--I waited for you to celebrate that milestone together--and I didn’t know you had to build up a tolerance.”

Carver grinned guiltily. “And to mine I’d had plenty of time to work up a tolerance since I was about fifteen. Unless Mother ever asks. In that case that birthday party was my very first alcohol: Uncle Gamlen certainly never let me get drunk off my ass at a strip club the weekend after my eighteenth birthday, I never ever used Garrett’s ID to get into clubs or buy beer, and my cousins Solona and Daylen were absolutely not sharing hard stuff from their parents’ liquor cabinet starting my freshman year of highschool.”

“As we established, some things you just don’t tell your mother,” Cullen nodded solemnly. “I was terrified of the consequences of Ma catching me drinking when I was underage. So I just...didn’t.”

“I’ve had fun undoing some of those tight, straight laces of yours, Babe,” Carver winked. “That was a fun night though. We did Karaoke and you danced with me and then dragged me into the bathroom to make out until they sent Fenris in after us.”

Cullen fought the smile that slipped onto his lips for a moment. “I hadn’t realized exactly how many levels of exasperation could be communicated with one sigh, until then.”

“I know, right?” Carver rolled his eyes affectionately. “He’s worse than Mother. I didn’t think that was possible. Though, I don’t honestly have a frame of reference for how she’d react if she walked in on us with you basically sitting in a sink while we’re more or less glued at the mouth and getting handsy through each other's pants in a very public setting, so maybe that’s not a particularly fair assessment.”

“I think for everyone’s sake we’re happier not knowing how anyone other than Fenris would react to that particular visual, Carver,” Cullen chuckled nervously.

“True, Fenris didn’t even really react beyond the sigh and telling us to wash our hands before we came out to eat the cake,” Carver snorted.

“We should have ice cream cake more often,” Cullen hummed.

“I wouldn’t say no to more making out in bathrooms either,” Carver teased and batted his eyes playfully.

“I’m definitely open to that idea too,” Cullen smiled indulgently. Carver’s eyes went wide in surprise and Cullen frowned slightly. “Is it that surprising?”

“The best kind, but...yea?” Carver squinted at him suspiciously.

Cullen shook his head. “I can be fun…”

“Yes, but you have never so much as implied that risking public indecency charges was a thing you were into sober,” Carver cocked his head to the side consideringly. “I would have been taking advantage of that at every opportunity possible!”

Cullen was very pink and endearingly flustered. “Well it’s hardly too late to start, is it? We’re twenty five, not eighty,” he said mildly.

“Oh ho, you better believe it’s not too late,” Carver crowed. “There’s a lot of missed opportunities to make up for: movie theaters and restaurants and bowling alleys…”

“How about airports?” Cullen teased.

Carver blinked several times. “We could just chuck the rest of the gifts in the closet and leave right now if you mean that…”

Cullen cleared his throat and rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly. “I didn't...that is...I wasn't saying...it’s a bit much to do something that...erm...exciting right before meeting my family…”

Carver looked absolutely crestfallen but nodded slowly. “Shit...you're right. Of course you are, you always are, but damn just thinking about it was hot. We could never...not right before seeing either of our mothers or siblings,” he sulkily pulled the blanket from the now empty box around his shoulders.

“What I meant was actually more along the lines of after Christmas, when we’ve got them on the plane back to Honnleath,” Cullen murmured.

Carver looked up quickly and grinned mischievously. “Well, that’s ok then. What time’s their flight out again; I want to count the hours…”

“How about first we worry about finishing up here and getting to the airport on time the first time,” Cullen chuckled. “And then if we’re up for it when they go back we can see what happens.”

“Deal,” Carver agreed quickly. “Which one do you want now?”

Cullen scanned the presents and gestured to a large, roundish one. “That one looks promising.”

Carver nodded happily and grabbed for it. “I’m almost positive you’ll like this one.”

Cullen tittered. “I’ve liked everything so far, Sweetheart. I doubt that’s changing any time soon,” he gently pulled off the paper and held up the large tin to admire it. It had a single mabari pup, in Holiday’s coloring, snoozing under a decorated Christmas tree. “It’s beautiful, Carver. You are right, I do like it.”

“The tin’s great and all, but I bet you’ll like what’s in it even more,” Carver coaxed.

“Well, yes? Popcorn’s always been a favorite snack of mine,” Cullen agreed.

“Oh the stuff that came in the tin? Nah that’s gross. It was the boring, plain, unsalted, stale-before-I-bought-it kind. I used that popcorn for the tree garland,” Carver glanced at the Christmas tree in front of them. “I got you some _good_ popcorn,” he promised.

Cullen raised an eyebrow and set to pry open the lid. Sure enough there were several bags of popcorn in an array of colors and presumably flavors tucked inside with a brochure from a company called “Popcorn Buddha”. Cullen was pleasantly surprised, he’d been half expecting to find a bag of “Pirate’s Booty”, which he liked but wasn’t really all that special or unusual in their home.

“One of the kids on my team brought a few bags of the stuff to practice after a vacation in the Poconos back around Thanksgiving,” Cullen said excitedly. “And honestly, it changed my life. The kid’s dad gave me the website info and later that night I checked it out. They have 85 flavors, at least, Cull! I didn’t know you could even do that much with Popcorn, but they can and they do. I knew immediately I had to get you some. I got five small bags of the flavored stuff and one bigger one of regular salt and butter, since I know you like the classic kind.”

“Are they labeled...oh good, they are. Let’s see what we’ve got...salt and vinegar, banana banana pudding, garlic parmesan, Tahitian coconut, and...puppy chow?” Holiday looked up from her toy expectantly at the words.

“It’s not actually meant for puppies,” Carver said quickly. “It’s caramel popcorn, with rice squares and pretzels and something with peanut butter and chocolate and the whole thing’s coated in powdered sugar. It was one of the flavors the kid brought in. It’s the best thing you’ve ever eaten.”

“Lofty praise, coming from you,” Cullen chuckled. He opened the bag of puppy chow corn and tossed a few pieces skeptically into his mouth. “Oh, wow. That’s really _really_ good!”

“Told ya,” Carver said proudly. “I knew you’d like it.”

“I didn’t doubt you,” Cullen smiled. “Though you realize, of course, we’re going to have to order more.”

“Yeah, I expected that,” Carver winked. “They sent a brochure along with my order, don’t worry, Babe.”

“How long exactly do you think it would take to try 85 flavors?” Cullen mused thoughtfully.

Carver shrugged. “I dunno. Depends on the size you get of each, I guess. They’ve got seven different sizes from little single serving baggies to like a trash bag full.”

“We should make trying all the flavors a goal for next year,” Cullen decided as he closed the bag of puppy chow and opened the salt and vinegar to pop a few kernels into his mouth.

“If you’d like,” Carver agreed easily. “But you probably shouldn’t eat too much of it anyway if you plan to eat a late lunch with your family still.”

Cullen nodded and tied the bags shut tightly before setting them back in the tin. “Good point. Which brings us back to your turn,” he reached for a large box wrapped in shiny golden paper and was about to hand it to Carver when his cell phone rang.

“Oh, that’s Mia’s number,” Cullen frowned. “I better take it to make sure everything’s okay, but you can go ahead and start opening it, if you want,” Carver nodded and he picked up the phone. “Mia, hello, is everything ok?” He asked nervously.

Carver watched and listened anxiously for a few moments. When Cullen’s expression slid from nervous to relief to a more neutral one, and his responses to the questions Carver couldn’t hear were mostly one word, non committal answers, Carver figured it probably wasn’t an emergency and peeled the paper from the package. He laughed as he opened the box to find five large boxes of Honey Nut Cheerios. “My favorite,” he gave Cullen a thumbs up just as Cullen choked and sputtered an answer to whatever his sister had just asked.

Tucked in beside the five boxes of breakfast cereal were a blu-ray, a large bag of candy and a small box. He reached for the DVD as Cullen murmured a few more hard to make out answers into the phone, cheeks stained red. “Oh The Ring! A classic. Nice one, Babe,” He grabbed for the bag of candy. “And five pounds of Gummy Peach Rings! You know me so well!” He tore into the bag excitedly and shoved several into his mouth.

Cullen gave him a Look, said goodbye to his sister and hung up the cell phone.

“Everythin’ okay?” Carver asked curiously between peach rings.

“Yes, everything’s fine. They’re boarding the plane in fifteen minutes and as far as they can tell the flight’s running on time.”

“What’d she say that caused you to choke like that?” Carver raised an eyebrow.

Cullen’s cheeks and ears went a little brighter and he coughed nervously. “Since she has a hotel room and Bran has one with his wife she offered to get one for Mom and Dad and Rosalie.”

Carver raised an eyebrow. “Generous of her, but we’ve got plenty of room here. We already set up the spare room for your parents and I’ve got everything to set your sister up on the pull out bed in here all ready to go, too. Besides,” he popped another gummy into his mouth. “Rosie’s fourteen, she doesn’t want Christmas morning in a hotel. And that doesn’t seem all that shocking, to me.”

“Well, the reason she offered was so that we could have the place to ourselves...so...ah...we could be as...well, loud as we wanted...in case we wanted to have--now, these are _her_ words, not mine--extremely enthusiastic and uninhibited, bed-breaking, neighbor-pissing-off Christmas sex.”

Carver blinked several times, and looked rather like Cullen had hit him over the head with a cast iron skillet. “Now, _that_ , does sound like something to choke over,” Carver said slowly. He pondered it for a moment. “Your _sister_ really said that to you?” Cullen nodded. “In...in a crowded airport near the boarding gate…” Cullen fidgeted and nodded again. “In front of your parents and kid siblings?”

“No, thankfully,” Cullen closed his eyes and shook his head. “Mom and Dad were at the newsstand, and Rosalie had gone with Branston and his wife to get smoothies.”

“Good,” Carver ran a hand through his hair and looked at Cullen expectantly. “So...what’d you tell her?”

Cullen tugged at the sleeve of the Mabari sweater he’d pulled on earlier. “I told her I’d run it by you and see what you thought. She already reserved the room, but the concierge said if she cancels by seven thirty she won’t have to pay anything since it’s Christmas Eve and they’re sure to have a lot of last minute requests. Mom and Dad already know she reserved it and are fine with it.”

Carver sucked on his bottom lip as he considered what Cullen had said. “Well, I’m not entirely opposed to the idea, and it wouldn’t be too horrible to think of things we could do to make it worth Mia’s while to pay for a whole other room…” He started slowly. “But at the same time Christmas is supposed to be about “giving” and “doing for others” and all that shit, according to Mother and church and Sebastian, and all the tv specials out there. And it’s probably selfish and wrong to make your parents and sister sleep in the Lothering Inn just so we can have sex, right? I mean, we have plenty of sex, we just had a great round this morning and we’ve already made plans to mostly stay in bed together for the rest of the year once they go home…” He frowned. “But we also have plenty of new toys to break in, and we’ve never actually had Christmas morning without your family over…”

“I feel a little guilty for considering it...but I can’t say the idea is not without merits,” Cullen said slowly, sheepishly.

“Huh,” Carver stared at him for a moment. “Why don’t we play it by ear, then. She’ll have a few hours after we get them before she needs to cancel the reservation. We can see how everything goes,” he offered a content smile. “Either way, I’m happy as long as I spend the night close to you. Loud sex is just a bonus as far as I’m concerned, and it’s really not like this is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

Cullen grinned at him and leaned over to kiss Carver on the cheek. “I love you, you know.”

“I never get tired of hearing it,” Carver mumbled. He wrinkled his nose happily and caught Cullen’s lips for a quick, chaste kiss before Cullen sat back in his seat.

“So how far’d you get in the present while I was on the phone?” Cullen asked. “I know I saw you react to the Cheerios and the peach rings…”

Carver brightened at the mention and popped another couple candies into his mouth. “I also saw the Blu-Ray. I love the Ring. Great horror movie. Was just about to open the little box in there.”

“Didn’t I just get a lecture from someone about spoiling my appetite?” Cullen glanced significantly at the bag of gummies.

“You’re right, you did,” Carver sighed and sealed the bag. “They’re so good though.”

“And just think how good they’ll be when we’re not surrounded by Christmas treats and you still have them and you don’t have standing lunch plans, Sweetheart,” Cullen said shrewdly. “Well, you did save the best...or, at least, the most interesting part of that present for last. Why don’t you go ahead and open it up?”

Carver rolled his eyes, but set the candy aside and picked up the little box. “More exciting than gummy rings, the man says, as if anything in the whole world could possibly be bett--OH,” his eyes went huge and wide. “Is this what I think it is?” Cullen nodded shyly and the flush that hadn’t really left his face and ears since the conversation with his sister got brighter.

“Depends,” Cullen started sheepishly. “If you think it’s a set of five cock rings that each do different things, then it’s exactly what you think it is. If not...I don’t know what to tell you,” he rubbed his neck.

“Yeah, that’s...what I thought I was seeing,” Carver agreed and swallowed hard. His own flush raced down his neck and his eyes were dark with excitement as he read the names of each ring, guessing what it did. “Tingler sounds like it vibrates, Icicle is probably cold, Immolate hopefully is just warm, not fire, Penetration speaks for itself, and...this one’s called Discipline.”

Cullen smirked, eyes blazing for a moment. “That’s right. They seemed...interesting,” his expression went from lusty and predatorial to embarrassed and hesitant. “I know we’ve never tried them before, and if we don’t like it we don’t need to keep them. But we had talked about it and when I saw the set…”

“Cull, Babe, just a few minutes ago you unwrapped a werewolf dildo from me,” Carver laughed. “So far we’re both comfortable with the toys we’ve tried and neither of us are going to push the other into things we don’t like. So no need to worry so much about it. Trying them out will be fun.”

“Fair enough,” Cullen agreed. “But if something’s ever too much, you will let me know, right?”

“If you promise to do the same,” Carver shrugged.

“Great, that’s settled then,” Cullen cleared his throat. “Since that means it is my turn again, right? I want that big one in the back.”

Carver grinned and stood up, his new blanket over his shoulders like a cloak. “This one’s a good one, too,” he hefted it up and set it into Cullen’s lap proudly.

Cullen removed the paper and hummed with delight. “Oranges!” Packed inside the box were two smaller boxes, decorated with a simple pattern of oranges.

“And tangerines, I think. They’re two different assortment boxes from this grove Isabela told me about. She knows the owner, or she _knows_ the owner, I can’t ever tell with her...In any case, she’s brought a crate or two of their fruit to every Christmas since we’ve known her. She also sends another box of a special kind available later in the season for Lunar New Year. Oh! I got a huge crate of those, too. Like thirty-seven pounds of ‘em. They’ll get sent out closer to the date, and there should be a certificate somewhere in the box.”

Cullen found it and showed it. “This is a lot of oranges, but I’m certainly not going to complain.”

Carver gave him a lopsided smile. “I know. Fresh fruit’s always been a thing that makes you happy. It just so happens both of us like oranges, they’re super healthy, we might have a bunch of company for the morning and even if we don’t there’s a lot I can do with it in the kitchen beyond just eating it straight. Oh! And I talked to the person when I placed the order. Nothing I ordered has any grapefruit and these oranges and things don’t have furanocoumarin so it won’t screw around with your anxiety meds.”

Cullen blinked a few times, misty eyed. “Do you even know how considerate you are, Carver?”

Carver shrugged a single shoulder. “I’m just doing the decent thing. You’d do the same for me. You _do_ the same for me, actually. You keep shellfish away from me so I don’t have a bad reaction.”

“I still love you for it,” Cullen sighed happily. “You’re the best.”

“Nah, not really,” Carver tugged on his ear almost shyly. He pulled his blanket over his head to cover his face. “Stop bein’ all mushy and give me my next present already!”

Cullen rolled his eyes. “Don’t downplay how great and sweet you are, Carver Malcolm Hawke!”

Carver peeked out of his blanket with a flustered scowl. “You just full-named me!”

“I’ll do it again until you acknowledge that you are incredible,” Cullen threatened with a teasing smile as he reached for the box with a “4” in the corner. “Real Mature, Carver Malcolm Hawke,” he sighed as he saw Carver stick his tongue out in the reflection of a bulb on the tree. “Here take your present.”

Carver snatched it away and pulled it open eagerly. “So _now_ it’s ‘calling bird’ time, right?”

“It is, Carver Malcolm Hawke,” Cullen affirmed.

Carver narrowed his eyes but did not rise to the bait. Instead he pulled the first part of the present, an envelope from the cell phone company, from the box. “Babe, you paid for an early upgrade option on my cell?”

“Well, I know you’ve had your eye on the new...model thingy?” Cullen bit his lip. “I thought I knew which one, but it turned out there were two different versions and several different colors and the salesperson started asking me things in all this jargon I didn’t quite follow...so I paid the fee to upgrade early but you can pick out the phone you want most at the store and it’ll be exactly perfect,” Cullen smiled earnestly. “And yes, I know my confusion in the face of modern technology is fully hilarious and baffling to you but having you pick out my phone has gone well enough so far, so I’m not worried.”

“As long as you know it, I guess,” Carver chuckled. “Oh what’s this?” He carefully lifted a six pack of beer bottles from the box. “4 Calling Birds beer,” he read the label, amused. “I love that this kind of thing even exists.”

“Yes, well, the clerk at the liquor store recommended it when I explained why I needed six bottles of Grey Goose vodka. That brewery had a whole series of 12 Days of Christmas themed beers and she had all of them in stock, but I liked the look of this one the best. I know you like darker ales and I thought you’d probably like the flavors.”

“It certainly sounds fancy and festive,” Carver nodded appreciatively as he set the bottles on the table and reached back into the box. He pulled out a set of four large books with a slightly puzzled expression until he turned them over and realized they were a series of books of Birdsongs, complete with an included audio sampling of each bird. The set included birds local to near where they lived, birds around the country, birds from around the world, and exotic birds. “To be honest, Cull, I didn’t even know there were this many birds around...this is pretty cool,’ he pushed a button at random and grinned as a mourning dove’s call filled the room.”

“It’s a good series, I thought,” Cullen agreed. “Nice coffee table books at any rate.”

Carver nodded and set the books on the table and pulled the last item from the box. It was carefully padded in bubble wrap he unwound slowly. “I cannot even imagine what this is, you know.”

“This was actually my first idea for the whole thing once I had decided to go with 12 Days of Christmas,” Cullen confessed softly.

Carver raised an eyebrow. “Must be pretty special then,” he commented and unwrapped the packing more quickly.

“Well, you’ll probably think it’s silly,” Cullen laughed nervously and fidgeted with his sleeve. “But...well…”

Carver took a sharp breath as the last of the bubble wrap fell away. He was holding a framed fairly recent photo of his mother and his brother and his sisters.

“I had my brother do the picture,” Cullen explained after a moment of Carver staring silently at the picture. “And if you push those little buttons on the side…”

Carver did and was startled by his mother’s voice. “I love you so much, my sweet boy! Merry Christmas.” The next button down was Marian: “Merry Christmas to my favorite little brother! Sidenote though, don’t tell Garret I said that.” Then Garrett: “Merry Christmas li’l bro! Also I totally heard what Marian just said!” And Bethany: “Have a very merry Christmas, Carver!” And the final button had all four of them at the same time: “Merry Christmas Carver, we love you!”

“I know it’s probably the corniest thing ever,” Cullen spoke up, nervous at Carver’s continued silence. “Or maybe it was a stupid idea, entirely but, I thought...well hawks... _are_ birds, after all…”

“You’re not the first to make that joke, you know,” Carver cracked a wry smile. Cullen felt relief wash over him, he’d been worried for a moment. “I’ve never had something like this,” he didn’t take his eyes off the picture. “It’s really…” He chewed the corner of his lip. “It’s like they're all right here. And...fuck, is it weird that I'm getting all emotional about hearing their voices? I literally work across the street from Bethany, had lunch with Marian yesterday, talked to Mother last night, and Garrett’s tagged me in like twelve memes on Facebook and sent three Snaps just this morning. We're seeing them tonight at the lake and all day tomorrow for crying out loud.”

“Your family’s always been important to you, Carver,” Cullen said gently. He moved closer to Carver and pulled him in for a cuddle. “And you to them. Anyone can see it.”

“Ha. Did you hear, Marian said I’m her favorite brother,” Carver tried for a smirk but it came off as rather more pleased than smug. “And she can’t take it back, it’s recorded and I’m keeping it forever, Cullen chuckled and kissed Carver’s temple. Carver cocked his head to the side as he stared at the picture frame in his hands. “I think I figured it out, why it hit so hard,” he said softly. “We haven’t done a whole family photo since my Dad died.”

“I had no idea,” Cullen frowned. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to be insensitive…”

“It’s not, I like it. I kinda want to get one with me in it now, actually,” Carver assured him. “I just...hadn’t thought about how long that had been. It was just a little bit of a shock,” he leaned his head onto Cullen’s shoulder. “God, I wasn’t even nine for that last family photo,” he smiled to himself. “Bethany was missing four front teeth. Garrett convinced us it was because she was a vampire and didn’t need those teeth as a grown up because she’d have to suck blood. I think I was missing one of the top ones and Bethany was so relieved when I lost it because I’d be a vampire, too.”

“What did your parents think of that?” Cullen raised an eyebrow.

Carver grinned. “Oh, they were not happy with him, I remember that. I think Dad thought it was funny until Bethany told our Sunday School Class that she wouldn’t be coming back because all the crosses would hurt once the transformation was complete.”

Cullen choked on a laugh. “That’s terrible!”

“A bit, yeah,” Carver nodded and tucked his head under Cullen’s chin.

Cullen rubbed Carver’s arm through the blanket. “Well, I expect Branson brought his fancy camera. I’ll have him get a good family portrait for all of you.”

Carver peered up at Cullen through his eyelashes and smiled softly at him. “I’d like that. Let’s have him do one of us, too. You and me and Holly.”

“That’s a nice idea,” Cullen agreed. “We could get it framed. One for the mantle, one for each of our desks?”

Carver nodded. “Yeah. Sounds good,” he sighed happily. “Maybe I’ll get a wallet size print, too. I like being able to show you off.”

“I like showing you off, too,” Cullen assured him. He continued with a conspiratorial wink, “You’re kind of important to me, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Carver grinned and leaned up to kiss Cullen’s jaw. “It’s settled then, we’ll do lots of different prints and annoy the hell out of our coworkers and siblings by grossing them out with affection and showing each other off.”

“That sounds like a nice plan, let’s go for it,” Cullen laughed. “Of course, not all my coworkers mind. I’ll have you know that though they pretend otherwise, Leliana, Cassandra, and Dorian are huge romantics and heavily invested in every detail I tell them about you. Josephine and Ms. Lavellan don’t even bother hiding their interest.”

“Really?” Carver wrinkled his nose. “Your _boss_ is interested in hearing about me? What have you been telling her?”

“Obviously I keep it professional, and I’m not telling her anything...sordid,” Cullen flushed. “Just simple things, things neither of us would be ashamed of strangers knowing,” he said quickly. “Like how we met and the sweet things you do for me sometimes or dates we’ve been on...stuff like that.”

“I guess that explains the giggling at your office Christmas party,” Carver mused.

Cullen sighed. “Well...yes. Mostly. She had just found out that when you pack my lunch for me you tuck a note in with it. She doesn’t know what you wrote that particular day, thank the Maker--that one was rather not appropriate for work,” Carver tried to look abashed but couldn’t help smirking a little. Mostly the notes were sweet little messages about having a nice day or reminding him to pick dog food or eggs on the way home, and a way to say “I love you” during the hours they were apart. But sometimes, since he knew Cullen was fairly private and not likely to share with everyone around, the messages weren’t entirely innocent. “But she thought it was so sweet that you pack my lunch and write me little love notes.”

“It’s not like I do it every day,” Carver rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I just like taking care of you and telling you I love you and all that.”

“And you’re excellent at doing it, Sweetheart,” Cullen said sweetly. “But Ms. Lavellan is right, it is sweet.”

“My dad put notes in my Mother’s lunches,” Carver said suddenly. “I thought it was just...one of those things everyone did for the people they loved.”

Cullen smiled affectionately and pressed his forehead to Carver’s. “Only the really sweet ones.”

“Really? It’s sweet people writing dirty limericks and promising to ravish their boyfriend the second he gets home, is it?”

“Yes,” Cullen shrugged.

“You’re so weird,” Carver laughed. “But I’m not gonna stop doing it.”

“Good,” Cullen breathed. “I like your notes.”

“Well, I'm never gonna be able to do one sweeter than your Christmas card, but it's something to try for,” Carver winked.

“I beg to differ, Sweetheart,” Cullen shook his head. “Last week's “you've got a great butt” haiku was wonderful and so creative and touching.”

“Heh. Touching _was_ the point, Babe,” Carver grinned impishly.

“You're incorrigible,” Cullen said affectionately.

“The first memory I have of Mother is her saying exactly that,” Carver grinned wickedly. “She said it a lot.”

“To you in particular or your siblings, too?” Cullen raised an eyebrow.

“Mostly Garrett and I,” Carver admitted. “Mind, it wasn't because Marian and Bethany were better behaved or Mother played favorites with the girls; they were just better at not getting caught.”

Cullen nodded. “I don't actually have a problem picturing that, you know. Maker, you four must have been a handful and a half.”

“At least, but we turned out alright, I think,” Carver nodded.

“I'm not complaining, Sweetheart,” Cullen said affectionately.

“For that you get your pick of the remaining presents,” Carver gave him a warm smile.

“I'll take...the one right there with the snowflakes,” Cullen gestured after a moment.

Carver grabbed for the specific box and tossed it to Cullen eagerly. “This was the first one I got actually.”

Cullen opened it curiously and had to laugh. The small box was full to the brim with fun, wool socks.

“There’s twelve pairs in there, one special pair for each month,” Carver said happily. “You can wear them any time, obviously, but certain ones are themed for certain holidays.”

Cullen pulled each pair from the box and admired them. Dark blue with snowflakes, maroon with pink hearts, dark green with white and light green clovers, light blue with yellow ducks, yellow with daisies, bright blue with smiling suns, red with green trim and black “seeds” like watermelon, purple with ice cream cones, green with red and yellow leaves, dark orange with bats, brown with turkeys, black with Santa's reindeer. “Where do you even find socks like these?” He laughed and held up a watermelon sock.

“Those specifically? At a vendor booth at that flower show Garrett was in this spring,” Carver smiled. “You don't really have a lot of fun socks. Actually apart from the mabari ones Marian gave you for your birthday last year I think you only have sensible ones. So it seemed high time that changed.”

“I had no idea it mattered what was on my socks,” Cullen blinked, amused.

“Well, I don’t know...it probably doesn’t?” Carver frowned. “But it was a thing my Dad started doing when Garrett and Marian were little...he got them silly socks every now and then so they, and eventually Bethany and me, had a fun secret that made lessons for etiquette or instruments or whatever high society and culture things Mother wanted us learning more bearable,” he shrugged. “Fun socks were always a...a special treat, when I was growing up,” Carver finished, something sheepish and hesitant entering his voice. “And up until my sister gave you the ones with the mabari you haven’t had any in the time I’ve known you.”

Cullen cocked his head to the side. “No, you’re right. I haven’t. My socks have always just been practical: solid colors, warm in winter, that sort of thing.”

“I know, but these are all practical as well as fun,” Carver grinned. “They’re all merino wool so they’re soft and warm and not itchy. And it isn’t like they’re terribly wild socks.”

“They’re wonderful, Sweetheart,” Cullen assured him. He pulled off his slippers and peeled off the plain grey socks he was wearing. He quickly pulled on the snowflake socks and wiggled his toes proudly for Carver. “I can wear the reindeer ones tomorrow.”

“You don’t have to humor me if you don’t want to,” Carver said with a grin. “But I like them. What do you think?”

“They are somewhat more interesting than what I normally wear, aren’t they?” Cullen wiggled his toes once again and admired the socks on his feet. “And they are nice and soft.”

“Good. I’m glad,” Carver looked thrilled. Cullen smiled and reached for a box with a neat “3” in the corner. “Orlesian hens time, right?”

“Right,” Cullen nodded. Carver wrinkled his nose slightly. “Obviously if it wasn’t for the theme I wouldn’t have ever got you anything Orlesian at all, but I think you’ll be pleased with what I picked anyway.”

Carver’s eyebrows raised and he stared keenly at the box like it might bite him before hesitantly opening it. There was an envelope taped to the lid of the box and Carver opened it carefully. “Huh. You got us reservations at Henri’s?”

“It was significantly harder to do than you’d think, for an Orlesian restaurant smack in the middle of Ferelden,” Cullen smiled ruefully. “But yes, seven o’clock on New Year’s Eve you and I are going to eat at the fancy Orlesian restaurant downtown. Don’t worry, I won’t make you order chicken, even though it would be thematically appropriate.”

“We’ll see when we get there,” Carver laughed. He pulled three bottles of fancy syrup from the box and gave them a questioning glance. “Orlesian vanilla syrup?”

“I’m told it’s a nice addition to milkshakes,” Cullen said simply. “Or baking or…” he drawled as Carver set it down and pulled out a fancy new Orlesian press coffee maker from the box. “Coffee,” he grinned at the excited look on Carver’s face as he opened his new coffeemaker. “I don’t even think Orlesians actually made the press, to be honest, but whoever did clearly knew what they were doing.”

“That’s for sure,” Carver agreed. “Aw, Babe, this is great!” He cradled the coffee press in his arms like a baby. “I am going to make so much awesome coffee for us.”

“I’m glad you like it, Sweetheart,” Cullen said fondly. “I know you’ll do incredible things with it.

“I can hardly wait!” Carver set it lovingly back into the box. “If we pick up some ground beans while we’re out I’ll do our first batch with breakfast tomorrow.”

“Oh, you don’t have to, Carver! You’re already doing so much!”

“It’s Christmas, Cull. What’s the point if it’s not special?”

“If you’re sure…” Cullen’s brows knit together slightly.

“Wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it,” Carver said firmly. “Don’t worry so much, Baby. It’s no trouble to make a special Christmas breakfast. I promise. I only want you and whoever else is here to enjoy it.”

“I want you to enjoy Christmas, too, Sweetheart,” Cullen said gently.

“I like cooking,” Carver reminded him. “And more than that, even if I didn’t, it’s for you. And I really like you,” he cocked his head to the side and smiled affectionately. “Besides, I have it on excellent authority that Anders went way overboard putting up mistletoe this year. So I’ll get to kiss you plenty tomorrow. I don’t think enjoying Christmas will be a problem.”

“Alright then,” Cullen shrugged. “You’d know best, I guess. But you do know I’d be just as happy having cereal or toast, right?”

“Yea, but that’s no fun, it’s Christmas!” Carver frowned. “Shit, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I made you eat raisin bran on Christmas?”

“The kind who wants me to have fiber and iron and vitamin b-12?” Cullen joked.

“Didn’t you just a little while ago say something about being 25, not 80?” Carver narrowed his eyes. “It’s a holiday. I’m making a nice breakfast. I have a great recipe for some special waffles and nobody is going to eat raisin bran in my kitchen on Christmas, Cullen.”

Cullen blinked. “Carver, Sweetheart, don’t take this the wrong way...but I have never heard you sound more like your mother in the entire time I have known you.”

Carver looked absolutely _horrified._ “What? No! I did not...did I?”

“You did, it was startling. Leandra herself could have been saying those exact things.”

“I knew Marian and Garrett did it sometimes...but I never thought that would happen to me…” Carver stared mournfully into his eggnog glass. “Will you still love me if I occasionally sound like a high strung middle aged mother of four who cares too much about things like napkin settings and entertaining strangers we don’t even like?”

“I’ll try my best,” Cullen promised with a laugh. Carver gave him a miserable pout. “It’s not that big a deal, Sweetheart. I do the same thing sometimes. Not with your mother, obviously, but the other day I said something to Ms. Lavellan that was undiluted, fresh from a barn in Honnleath, Stanton James Rutherford,” he smiled ruefully. “Naturally the whole thing happened in front of Dorian and Sera, who I fear may never let me live it down.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad, Baby,” Carver said consolingly. He did look a lot more cheerful. “Your dad’s a great guy.”

“He is, but he’s also an upper-middle aged man from a very rural town,” Cullen reminded gently. He grimaced slightly, “Dorian’s calling me Hayseed now.”

Carver wrinkled his nose. “Oh. Yuck. That’ll never stick.”

“Here’s to hoping,” Cullen sighed. “But let’s not worry about that now, Sweetheart. My point was it’s not that unusual to sound like our parents.”

“At least it’s not just me,” Carver said thoughtfully. “But whatever, it’s Christmas, there’s presents, tell me which one you want next.”

Cullen looked at the tree and glanced between the two of the remaining presents from Carver for a moment. “I’ll take the last of the “joy” paper presents, I think.”

“This one extra definitely especially needs to be put away,” Carver said cheekily as he handed it over.

Cullen opened the present carefully, as though he expected it to explode. He pulled away the paper and raised an eyebrow. “A...chess set? It’s beautiful,” he ran a hand over the board. “But I don’t see why you wrapped it in--OH,” he froze with the lid slid open and gaped at the pieces as a furious blush raced down his face and neck.

Carver smiled, and it spread rapidly into a wide grin. He burst into full, gut-busting laughter. “Oh, Baby, I wish you could see your face!” He giggled with mirth. “Do you like it, I had it made custom.”

Cullen still looked scandalized. “I’ve never seen chess pieces quite so...phallic.”

“I know,” Carver cackled. “Sebastian saw it while I was wrapping it and just about fainted on the spot. He went as red as his hair,” Carver wiped at the tears forming in his eyes and tried to control his laughter. “That alone was worth it, I tell you.”

“The pieces are shaped like penises,” Cullen said slowly, still processing.

“All except the Queens,” Carver agreed and gestured to the pieces and picked up one of the queens, an elegantly sculpted vulva and clitoris.

Cullen chuckled nervously and rubbed at his neck. “Right, except for them.”

Carver grinned at him. “Isabela gave Fenris a dirty chess set for his name day, with scenes from the Kama Sutra as pieces. It’s a lot more graphic than this one trust me. He and Garrett keep it in their library.”

“I’m sure Isabela’s pleased by that,” Cullen laughed. “You’re definitely right, this goes away while we have company. Any company, but most especially my parents and little sister.”

“Well, obviously. It’s funny in Fenris and Garrett’s house because everyone knows they’re both sex-repulsed and ace as fuck and joke about how funny sex is all the time. But that’s not a joke about me that I want to include any parents or little siblings in. Or...any siblings really. I already know too much about what mine get up to and I don’t need to know more or want them to know what I am or am not doing. So, closet in a box labeled tax stuff.”

“It is actually kind of nice,” Cullen admitted. “Once you get over the shock of opening a box of 30 shiny, highly detailed penis statuettes.”

“The artist did a really nice job, I thought,” Carver smiled. “And you can tell what piece is what position just by looking.”

“You can,” Cullen agreed. “And it is a nice set. It’s well made and I always love playing chess with you.”

“Maybe if you’re flustered by the pieces I can finally win,” Carver said fondly.

Cullen smirked. “Carver, Sweetheart, I may have been surprised at first, but have I ever given you the impression I’m afraid to touch a penis? Even an inorganic one?”

Carver laughed. “Got me there, Cull. I’ll still have fun playing with you, even if you do kick my ass every game.”

“You are getting better,” Cullen chuckled. “Last time you almost had me.”

“Just give me my turtledove present,” Carver gave a good natured scowl and stuck his tongue out.

“Of course,” Cullen carefully set the pieces back into the box and gently set it down on the coffee table. “I had to get a little creative on this one--not quite chess set of dicks creative, unfortunately--but I think you’ll like it anyway.”

He handed Carver the second to last present from his pile and Carver tore into it. He picked up the first part and smiled. Cullen had tied a large bag of dove chocolates and a large bag of chocolate turtles together with a festive ribbon.

“That is my kind of creativity, Babe!” Carver winked. “This is some pretty great chocolate. And I haven’t had chocolate turtles in forever,” he set the bags down and removed the second half of the present from the box. It was a box containing a turtle shaped soap dish and an assortment of Dove face bars. “Ah that’s pretty cute,” he admitted. “The turtle’s adorable. And, soap’s always good. We won’t run out for a while, that’s for sure. You’re not giving me a subtle message are you?” Carver asked wryly. “First the Halla soaps and then the Dove ones…”

“I’m not especially great at subtle, Sweetheart,” Cullen smiled warmly. “Other than them fitting the themes there is no ulterior motive to me giving you the soap. Not that I’d mind you reading into me wanting you naked and wet and lathered up in the shower, because I really like that image a lot. But it’s not anything sinister.”

“Are you gonna help me use all of it?” Carver asked coyly through half lidded eyes. “This is a lot of soap after all. And I can’t possibly reach my back all by my self.”

“I’m not opposed to helping out now and then,” Cullen promised with a grin.

“Good, I like having you help me,” Carver fluttered his eyelashes and winked affectionately.

“Enough to give me that last present over there?” Cullen gestured.

“At least that much,” Carver nodded after pretending to think for a moment. He repacked the turtledove present and picked up Cullen’s last box. “Saved the best for last, I think. I’ve been really excited to get to this one.”

Cullen opened the wrapping paper and took a moment to admire the lovely decorative box and opened the top carefully. He took in a sharp breath and stared silently at the contents. “You remembered?”

“Course I did, Cull,” Carver said gently. “You were so happy when you told me about how much you used to love coloring and drawing. So, I got you some good paper and the best pencils, crayons, and markers I could find. And get this, there’s this trend right now of adult coloring books. And before you ask, they aren’t naughty, they’re just not like cartoon characters or ponies or whatever. Apparently some scientists have figured out that coloring is really relaxing and good for stress and anxiety. So I got you a whole bunch of different ones--there’s a couple with mandalas and a few with abstract random shapes, one with castles, one with dragons and things, a couple animal ones, and one with flowers, a neat fine art one, one with lots of holiday pictures, and a really great one with mabari pups.”

“Carver, you’re incredible,” Cullen breathed. He picked up the Mabari coloring book and flipped through the pages. “This is the most thoughtful gift I can even imagine, and it was based off a conversation we had months ago in line at the dollar store,” he looked up at Carver and blinked back a few emotional tears.

“Well...I wanted to make you happy,” Carver smiled uncertainly. “And finding out about the coloring books helping stress and anxiety was just an added bonus.”

“Thank you, Carver,” Cullen leaned over and kissed him softly. “This is great, all of this is great. Maker, I’m almost embarrassed about my last gift now.”

“It’s not a contest, Cull,” Carver laughed. “You’ve given me a lot of incredible things, things I’ve always wanted, too. I’ll love it no matter what, because I love you.”

Cullen reached over and grabbed Carver’s hand and smiled fondly. “I love you, too, Carver,” he carefully set down the box of art things and grabbed the last present for Carver. “Now, I’m afraid it’s not half as sentimental as your beautiful box of coloring material, but…”

“Oh you hush,” Carver rolled his eyes and reached for the present. “It’s great, I’m sure,” he unwrapped it quickly. He looked mildly puzzled as he lifted a box indicating a cupcake tree from inside it until Cullen gestured for him to open that, too.

Inside there was a cupcake tree, a beautifully crafted green metal one. Each space for a cupcake held a fresh pear.

“The condo rules specifically forbid the planting of fruit bearing trees on the grounds, and the managers wouldn’t budge,” Cullen explained quickly. “So I couldn’t get a real pear tree, obviously. But I liked the cupcake stand tree and figured fresh pears were a solid plan.”

Carver nodded and looked quizzically at the bundle of cloth tucked into the bottom. He carefully removed it and unfolded a beautiful winter coat.

“It’s a John Partridge coat,” Cullen said helpfully. “Your winter coat was looking a little worn, so I took the liberty to get you a new one.”

“Pretty creative interpretation of a partridge in a pear tree,” Carver laughed as he pulled his arms through the sleeves. “Oh, Cull, this is gorgeous! It’s so warm, too!”

“It’s supposed to be specifically designed for Fereldan winters,” Cullen beamed. “It looks good on you.”

“It’s a perfect fit. I like the hood,” Carver flipped said hood over his head. “I’ll wear it to go pick up your parents at the airport.”

“I’m glad,” Cullen said sincerely. “Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.”

Carver smiled at him and stretched and stood up. “Merry Christmas, Babe.”

“Where are you off to so quick?” Cullen’s eyebrows knitted together.

“I’d love to stay and bask in the material glow of new things and a cuddly boyfriend, but I should probably get started putting away the contraband before we have to leave. As it stands right now, we’ll probably have company, and I don’t know how comfortable I’ll be making my fancy waffles if your mom’s got any knowledge of the cock rings or werewolf dildo or any of the rest.”

“Carver please, sit back down, just for a minute,” Cullen caught him by the hand and gave him a pleading look.

Carver sat obediently. “Sure Babe, is everything okay?” He rubbed his thumb over Cullen’s hand gently.

“I just wanted to...you liked your presents right?”

“I loved them, Cullen,” Carver reassured him and leaned in for a soft kiss. “All of them. It was such a creative idea and you executed it so well. You gave me some really exciting stuff, and we spent the whole morning together. It was great.”

“I love you,” Cullen said softly and caressed Carver’s cheek.

Carver nuzzled his hand. “I love you, too,” he said earnestly. “Thank you for spending Christmas with me.”

“I can’t imagine spending Christmas without you, Carver,” Cullen whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Carver promised. “Well, to the closet to put away all the naughty things we’ve got safely on a shelf, but that’s it.”

He winked and picked up the box of cock rings and thought for a moment. “You know, I just noticed something...did you realize there were only four things in the ‘5 gold rings’ present? I mean, I’m definitely not complaining. I loved all of them. But...there was the cheerios, the movie, the peach rings and these. Just four.”

“I knew you’d notice,” Cullen’s voice was quiet and a little weird despite his smile. Holiday cocked her head and came immediately over to him. She huffed softly and lay her big square head gently on his knee. “I’m okay, Holly, I’m okay,” He promised. “Actually...will you go get the thing?” She boofed softly and hopped off the couch.

Carver looked startled. “Babe? What is it? What do you need; what’s she getting you?”

“I love you,” Cullen gave him a soft, fond look, and pulled him by the shirt collar into a very tender kiss. Carver melted into it and curled his fists into the soft new mabari sweater Cullen was wearing. Meanwhile, Holiday rummaged under the tree until she found what she was looking for. She brought it back to the couch and huffed at them irritably. She put a large paw on Carver’s knee to get his attention and he reluctantly pulled away from the kiss.

“What is it, Pup?” Carver asked with a raised eyebrow. Holiday insistently held a tiny bag in her teeth. “Is...that for me?” He guessed and she barked in affirmation. “Alright, okay, I’ve got it.”

Carver carefully took the bag and opened it as she sat and watched him critically. Inside the tissue paper and ribbon there was just a slip of paper, which he grabbed curiously and started reading.

“Carver, will you--” Carver’s breath caught in his throat and he worked his mouth silently for a few seconds before he managed to squeak out the rest of it. “Will you marry my Papa?” He spun to Cullen, eyes wide. “Cull?” His voice wavered. In the time Holiday had taken Carver’s attention, Cullen had sunk down to one knee and pulled out a little velvet box. “Holy shit...are you serious? Is this really…?” Tears prickled at his eyes and he clutched the strip of paper like a lifeline. “If this is a joke I swear I’ll...I don’t even know, but I’ll do something…” he promised and rubbed at his eyes.

“No joke, Carver,” Cullen promised softly. “I love you, and I mean this and it’s real. You make me feel safe and loved. You make every day better. We’ve talked a lot about our futures and being married someday and...I can’t imagine life without you in it. So, I wanted to know if you’d like to make it official. And agree to marry me. If you want,” he swallowed hard and gave a shaky smile. “Obviously I understand if you’re not ready. If not, you can still keep the ring, it’s yours: a promise of how much I love you, a physical token of what you mean to me.”

Carver bit his lip. “I haven’t even seen the ring,” he tried joking.

“Oh! Right, that’d be helpful…” Cullen laughed squeakily. He opened the ring box for Carver.

Carver gasped and teared up again. The ring was simple, a black gold band with a small heart shaped ruby--Carver’s birthstone-- set in the middle. “Cull...it’s gorgeous. Can I…?”

“Of course,” Cullen nodded. “Like I said, it’s yours. No matter what.”

Carver sniffled and picked it up carefully. On the lower part of the inner band there was a CH and CR separated by a tiny red heart. “Oh my God, C-Cull! Oh my God!” His bottom lip trembled and Holiday climbed up beside him and nuzzled his cheek to comfort him. “It’s wonderful, gorgeous. I love it. I love you,” he swallowed hard and pulled Cullen into a kiss.

“So...is that...a yes? Or…?” Cullen asked hesitantly as he pulled back after a moment to catch his breath.

“Of course it’s a yes,” Carver said happily. “Soon as you put the ring on me.”

Cullen nodded and bit his lip. There were tears in his eyes as he took the ring and with shaking hands slid it onto Carver’s finger. The second it was on, Carver flung his arms around Cullen’s neck and knocked him backwards. They both crashed to the floor, and Carver made a concentrated effort to kiss every inch of Cullen’s face multiple times. Holiday sighed and moved back to her bed as her humans kissed frantically between the couch and coffee table.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Carver whispered breathlessly between kisses. He tucked his head into the crook of Cullen’s neck and started giggling.

“Are...you...okay?” Cullen asked, rubbing circles in Carver’s back.

“Yea,” Carver chuckled. “It’s just really ironic, is all,” he snorted a puff of air into Cullen’s neck. “I didn’t see this coming at all. And wait until everyone hears you asked…”

“Well, I think everyone knew I was going to,” Cullen admitted sheepishly. “That’s why my sister made the hotel offer. When I decided I was going to do it, I kicked around ideas until I settled on the whole 12 days of Christmas with the 5 gold rings. I ran ideas past all our siblings and I had all yours give input on the ring.”

“What?” Carver looked thunderstruck. “They all knew?” Cullen nodded. “Those _bastards_!” He scowled, with no real malice.

“Well I did swear them to secrecy, I wanted it to be a surprise?”  Cullen said quickly.

“Huh? Oh yeah, no that makes a lot of sense, and it definitely was a surprise,” Carver assured him and leaned in for a quick, placating kiss. “What I mean is that all of the little shits knew I was a nervous wreck while I was--” He clamped his mouth shut and stared at Cullen. “While I was shopping for an engagement ring to propose to you with,” He said softly. “I was half out of my mind with worry that I was pushing too fast and about everything that could go wrong if I asked and you weren’t ready for it. And they knew?! They knew you were ready and I wasn’t jumping the gun and just let me be upset! God, Garrett was such an ass when I brought him ring shopping, I ended up taking Bethany, Marian, and Anders…”

"I don't think I mentioned it to Anders, at least. Wait..." Cullen blinked up at him. “You...you were ring shopping?”

Carver nodded. “There lies the irony, Baby. I was actually planning on proposing tonight--on the lake, where we first met!” He laughed. “I had this whole thing planned and a speech and I actually have a ring, too; it’s been in the cupboard behind the rice container for a few weeks.”

Cullen chuckled. “I guess great minds think alike, Sweetheart,” he pressed a kiss to Carver’s temple. “I’d...I’d love to see it, if I could?”

Carver nodded and climbed off Cullen’s chest. “Don’t move, I’ll be right back,” he promised. He hurried to the kitchen, almost tripped three separate times, rummaged in the cupboard until he found the little box all the way at the back behind the rice and a few cans of soup and ran back to Cullen who, as directed, had not moved.

Carver smiled nervously and climbed down to his knees in front of Cullen, who sat up and scooted close to him. He opened the box in his hands. “I can’t do the speech right now, I’ll probably start crying,” he joked. “But the basic gist of it was that I love you. A lot. And the idea of spending the rest of my life without you in it physically hurts and I don’t want to try. You are my heart and my future. I want you by my side through the good and the bad and the stupid. I want to grow old with you and be with you for the rest of our lives if you’ll have me,” he opened his ring box shyly.

“That’s not a half bad speech, considering,” there were immediately tears on Cullen’s cheeks. He stared at the gold band reverently for a long moment before he took it into his hand. There was an impressive stone set into the center and both edges were lined with tiny stones. The inner band had an engraving, “I love you forever and always ~ Carver”.

“They aren’t diamonds,” Carver said quietly. Cullen raised an eyebrow and looked quizzically at the ring he held. “The stones. They’re created white sapphire. Don’t get me wrong, you’re totally worth my weight in expensive gemstones, but we watched that documentary on blood diamonds and I knew you wouldn’t feel comfortable with a ring made of those. I wouldn’t be either, honestly. Anders told me about created sapphire….said it came in a bunch of colors that were pretty and made in a lab. All the jewelry he and Marian wear with stones are created sapphire. The white ones are just as striking as diamonds and most people wouldn’t know the difference but I would and you would and--”

Cullen cut him off by pressing his lips to Carver’s. “Shhh, you’re rambling, Sweetheart,” he kissed Carver again. “My answer would be yes, Carver.”

Carver blinked, mildly disoriented and halfway toward chasing Cullen’s lips for another kiss. “Whuh?”

“My answer,” Cullen smiled affectionately, with a blush on his cheeks, and ran a hand through Carver’s hair, down his head and neck to rest low on his cheek. “To your proposal. Yes, I want to marry you, Carver. Very, very much.”

Carver’s smile reached both ears. “Oh! Good!” He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Cullen’s. “Can I put the ring on your hand then?”

“That’d be nice, yes,” Cullen said softly and put his hand into Carver’s.

Carver hummed happily and didn’t take his gaze from Cullen’s face as he fumbled the ring out of the box and onto Cullen’s hand. “We’re getting married,” he said, amazed, like he could scarcely believe it.

“We are,” Cullen said gently, with a serene smile. “Which means I got everything I could have ever wanted this Christmas. You.”

Carver nodded once and sighed happily. “Me, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: with the exception of anything about Mabari (though technically that can be imagined as just regular dog breed stuff I know exists), and Dane the Werewolf (I couldn't resist changing the actually described David to Dane for lore reasons), all of the products described in this story actually exist and are purchasable in our world if you're curious. Yes, even the chess set. Especially the chess set.
> 
> Questions Frequently Asked by my betas:  
> -Q. Why do they have so much money for presents???  
> -A. The meta answer is because it's romantic and I wish I could go that over the top buying things for people I love, but the in-world answer is more multifaceted. In this universe, Leandra did elope with Malcolm but the circumstances were obviously very different than they would be in-game. So Carver grew up with Old Amell Money and a lot of the privileges that entails. Also they both have very stable, well paying jobs.
> 
> -Q. So then what are these boys doing for work that they've got this much disposable income for presents so young???  
> -A. Carver is a personal trainer who is also a children's ice hockey coach. He has a specialized degree from a fine University and never ever had a single student loan to worry about. Cullen...well I'm not actually sure what he's doing now but he's happy and respected there and Holiday goes to work with him every day (his desk even has a nametag identifying her!) because she's his service dog for anxiety and PTSD due to some time served in the military that I'm not totally sure of the details on, but may eventually flesh out. 
> 
> -Q. Are you gonna tell us more about this "spaghetti incident"?  
> -A. Actually...yes. This was meant to be a very short one-off cute Christmas fic but somehow in the process sprang into a fully developed universe. I actually have several other pieces in various stages from scrawled notes in margins to solidly outlined to half written (originally I wrote in most of Carver and Cullen's Christmas Meet-Cute 7 years before this takes place but it was getting too long so I split that and also the scenes where they get Holly and actually go to the family Christmas into their own stories for another time). But basically I have a lot of other ideas and if I mentioned it at all I have a story for it. Including "the spaghetti incident". I know what all the other siblings and love interests and friends and parents are up to and I know what pets they have and who is and is not having kids and I definitely expect to return several times to this AU. I'll bundle them under a collection for convenience when there is another piece ready for publishing. (I actually know what the collection and that story will be called, but I want to keep that under my hat for now.)
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this story. Kudos and comments are always welcome. :)


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